


moonchild

by elysiumgates



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book: New Moon, Children of The Moon, F/F, Occult, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:35:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28901232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumgates/pseuds/elysiumgates
Summary: After the Cullens leave Forks, Bella falls into a deep depression and begins risking her life to create hallucinations of her ex-boyfriend. One night, during another attempt to see Edward, she happens across a runaway werewolf, kickstarting a butterfly effect that shakes the entire supernatural world.
Relationships: Rosalie Hale/Bella Swan
Comments: 118
Kudos: 357





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story popped in my head a couple months ago when I started toying with the idea of a Bella/Rosalie AU. I originally had plans of a medieval story (which I may still write) but I wanted to focus on something more simplistic and less reliant on world building first. So why not mess around with the plot of New Moon for a bit?
> 
> So, without further ado, I hope you'll enjoy! If you dig the story, leave a review and let me know what you're thinking. It's dope to read other people's feelings on the writing.

**CRY WOLF**

_Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

In a time where old wives’ tales were as certain as the sky, there was a lullaby sung to children - warning them of the dangers in the dark.

_Creatures short and creatures tall,_

_when the moon shines - fear them all._

_The sun may stop the belly of the beast,_

_but the night beckons them to come & feast. _

And what was a babe to do — when animal eyes shone through bushes outside the range of guards, weapons and fire-lit torches — but stay close to their mother’s teat?

The divide was clear for a young mind set on simplicity: the sun was safe and the moon was dangerous.

And yet, what happened to the one who was both child and monster by misfortune? 

Human until the moon made them mindless?

_Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

Bounded by bulletproof fur, panting around steely fangs and filled with a deranged hunger that bordered on endless - this unanswered question pounded through the deep forests of Washington, guided only by the sound of its heartbeat and the cool light of the lune until the creature sensed _it._

A smell too sweet to exist. A thrumming pulse. And an invisible tug that pulled the creature closer.

_Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

The broken _Welcome to Forks_ sign, crushed by heavy paws, was an apt omen for what would come next.

* * *

_Time passes. Even when it seemed impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand ached like a pulse behind a fresh scar. It passed unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but it did pass. Even for her._

Bella stared out the window, holding Jacob’s ruined shirt to her bloody head, while he drove them to Forks.

The motorcycle had been better than she’d dreamed. It had served its original purpose - to break her promise to Edward and be reckless. The wind whipping past her face, the speed-induced blur, the freedom - it reminded her of their times _before_ , flying through the thick forest and safe in his arms.

Bella felt how her heart kickstarted when he appeared on that dirt road - demanding her to go home. The sheer beauty of him left her in awe and now she finally figured out the key to those hallucinations. Tonight, after the ER, she’d find a way to see him again, to hear those velvet-soaked commands again.

The ache of its absence made her flinch. 

“You still good?” Jacob checked, his mouth set in a concerned frown.

She tried to sound convincing. “Yeah.” 

“By the way,” he added, “I’m going to disconnect your foot brake tonight. No more accidents like this.”

At home, Bella looked in the mirror and it was pretty messy. Blood had dried in thick streaks across her cheeks and neck, matting in her chestnut locks. She tried to be clinical and breathed through her mouth so the blood wouldn’t bother her.

After washing up adequately, Bella hid her bloody clothes in her hamper and changed into fresh ones.

“Hurry up,” Jacob called.

“Alright, I’m coming,” Bella shouted back. After covering her tracks and grabbing a large tee she’d snagged from Phil, she headed downstairs.

“How do I look?” She asked him.

“Better,” he admitted.

“Let’s go then.”

Jacob hurried Bella out the door, and insisted on driving again. They were halfway to the hospital when she remembered he was still shirtless. 

She frowned, guilty, and pulled out the spare shirt she held by her side. “Here, I brought this for you.”

“Thanks,” Jacob smiled and pulled the shirt onto his lap. 

“You don’t wanna put it on?”

“Nah, hands always on ten and two, Bella,” he teased. “Besides it’s not cold.”

“Are you kidding?” She shivered and reached out to turn the heat on.

Bella watched Jacob to see if he was just braving the temperature, but he looked pretty comfortable. 

Jacob really did look older than sixteen - definitely not 30, but older than her. His skin, lanky and wiry with muscle, nearly glowed in the dim cab of the truck and his pretty hue made her feel a lighthearted jealousy.

Jacob noticed her scrutiny.

“What?” he asked, eyeing her in his periphery.

“Nothing.” She shook her head and paused. “It’s just — did you know you’re kinda beautiful?”

“Okay, player.” Jacob rolled his eyes. “You hit your head pretty hard, didn’t you?”

“I’m serious.” Bella protested, but was happy he took it lightly. 

“Well...thank you. Kinda.”

Bella grinned. “You’re welcome. Kinda.”

Bella had to have seven stitches to close the cut on her forehead. After the sting of the local anesthetic, there was no pain in the procedure. Jacob held her hand while Dr. Snow was sewing, and she tried not to think about why that was ironic. They were at the hospital forever. By the time she was done, Bella had to drop Jacob off at his home and hurry back to cook dinner for Charlie. But Charlie seemed to buy her story about falling in Jacob's garage.

This night was not as bad for Bella as that first night, after hearing his voice in Port Angeles. The hole came back, the way it always did when she was away from Jacob, but it didn't ache so badly around the edges. She was already planning ahead, looking forward to more delusions, and that was a distraction. Tomorrow also meant time with Jacob and that made the empty hole and the familiar pain easier to bear; relief was in sight. The nightmare, too, had lost a little of its potency. Bella was horrified by the nothingness, as always, but she was also strangely impatient as she waited for the moment that would send her panicked into consciousness. The nightmare had to end, she knew. 

The next Wednesday, before Bella could get home from the ER again, Dr. Snow called to warn Charlie that she might possibly have a concussion and advised him to wake her up every two hours through the night to make sure it wasn't serious.

Charlie's eyes narrowed at her weak explanation about tripping again. “Maybe you should just stay out of the garage altogether, Bella,” he suggested that night during dinner. 

Bella panicked, worried that Charlie was about to lay down some kind of edict that would prohibit La Push and her motorcycle. Bella couldn’t give it up, not after having the most amazing hallucination today. Edward had yelled at her for almost five minutes before she'd hit the brake too abruptly and launched herself into the tree. Bella was ready to take whatever pain that would cause her to see him without complaint.

“This didn't happen in the garage,” she protested. “We were hiking, and I tripped over a rock.” 

“Since when do you hike?” Charlie asked, skepticism sewed in the scrunch of his brows. 

“Working at Newton's was bound to rub off sometime,” she pointed out. "Spend every day selling all the virtues of the outdoors, eventually you get curious." 

Charlie glared at her, unconvinced. His face reeked of the question - _do you think I’m stupid?_

"I'll be more careful," Bella promised, crossing her fingers under the table.

He sighed. "I don't mind you hiking right there around La Push, but keep close to town, okay?" 

“Why?” 

"Well, lately, we've been getting a lot of wildlife complaints. The forestry department is going to check into it, but for the time being..." 

"Oh, the big bear," Bella said with sudden comprehension. "Yeah, some of the hikers coming through Newton's have seen it. Do you think there's really some giant mutated grizzly out there?"

Charlier’s forehead creased. "There's something. Keep it close to town, okay?" 

"Sure, sure," She agreed. He didn't look completely appeased but dug back into his lasagna. 

The next night - on her non-Jacob day - as Bella tied on her new hiking boots, she couldn’t help but feel guilty as she heard Charlie’s loud snores from his bedroom. His gruff warnings echoed throughout her head but the allure of the chance to see Edward rang even louder. 

If she couldn't have the bikes, she was going to have to find some other avenue to the danger. Doing nothing in the meantime was not appealing. 

The motorcycles worked but his presence must be stamped somewhere, somewhere other than inside Bella. There had to be a place where he seemed more real than among all the familiar landmarks that were crowded with other human memories.

The meadow. 

The one place that would always belong to him, lit by sunshine and the sparkle of his diamond complexion.

It was night so there would be no sunlight, but Bella hoped that the added danger would make him feel stronger and soothe the deep hole within her.

She shucked on some extra layers, the waterproof field jacket Jacob lent her and grabbed her flashlight, pepper spray, compass, map and pocket knife. She crept downstairs stopping in time with the pauses in Charlie’s snores, until she reached the door and inched it open. Finally, she was bounding down the front porch and into the woods, guided by the light of the full moon.

The forest, normally full of chaotic life, was quiet with a buzzing potency. The energy would’ve been creepy enough to turn Bella around if it wasn’t exactly what she was looking for. 

The sense of unease grew stronger, the deeper Bella moved into the overgrown, shaggy embrace of the pine and fir trees. She began to miss Jacob’s carefree whistling and the sound of another pair of feet squishing across the muddy ground. 

She held up her flashlight to shine light on the well-worn map and catch her breath. She had just managed to unfold the paper when she heard two things.

A large _crack_ much, much further into the thicket, like a giant had stepped on a branch.

And the soft-lined bullet of Edward’s voice whispering in her ear, “ _Run._ ”

Bella swallowed but held her ground, even angling her body to face where she heard the sound.

Another _crack_ sounded closer than before.

“Bella, please, _go._ ” She gasped at the way the voice curled around her name and shook her head. 

“You might be able to leave me, but I can’t do it.” She stood firmer. “I _won’t_ do it.”

The cracks were followed by quick, pounding thuds and suddenly Edward appeared in front of her. His topaz eyes filled with a terror she had never seen before and Bella wondered, in a detached sense, how truly fucked _was_ she?

She knew when the _hallucination_ tried to _push_ her back towards her house that the answer was very.

By the time, Bella took a staggering step back - it was too late.

The heavy thuds slowed down and each step sent vibrations jolting under her boots. 

Bella moved, once more. 

Her foot, tangling on a snarly branch, sent her flying to the floor - crunching the fallen leaves and pine needles like a clumsy dinner bell.

Bella froze, waiting for more thuds. None came. 

She glanced around, looking through the thick underbrush, around the tree trunks yet only saw the moonlight reflected against the silent woods.

A delirious hope rose in the back of her head - _no Edward, no danger._

Then, her faulty instincts kicked in at the last minute.

She tilted her gaze to the left and when she heard the distant echo of Edward’s ferocious roar, she knew she had found it.

There, a form of darkness that Bella had labeled as the adjacent oak tree’s shadow had begun to move in a way that was definitely _un-treelike._

The creature slinked out into the light with the quiet ease of a cobra yet it was _enormous_ \- several feet taller than her with the size of a small coupe. The muscularity and strength was still imminent under its malnourished, ink-black fur but what truly held Bella’s attention were the eyes.

Luminescent, silver pools that tracked her with a single minded intensity.

The bear. Only, Bella hesitated to call this great thing a bear because underneath it’s sheer primality there was something undeniably _different_ about its nature.

It stood upright with the posture of an ape and hands to match but she spotted the long, proud tail that stood at attention like a canine and her eyebrows rose in shock. Her mind boggled, she had no idea what this creature was but knew it had to be the one causing all the alarm.

“Don’t move an inch.” Edward’s voice whispered.

Bella listened though she didn’t relish the idea of becoming a human pork chop.

The wolf’s long muzzle grimaced, revealing a line of curved incisors that rivaled daggers. A thunderous snarl rolled down from between its teeth - clearing the distance between her and it with the energy of a red carpet of doom.

It padded closer, crouching down until it was nearly eye-level and Bella felt the humid heat of its breath washing over her. She clenched her hands on the ground, fingered the large branch that had tripped her on one side and gripped a small pile of pine needles on the other.

Edward appeared by the shoulder of the creature and shook his head, his normal aloofness melted into a protective fear that warmed her ache - even now. 

Bella decided to make a very impulsive decision.

She blew the pine needles directly into the creature’s eyes and swung the branch as hard as she could upside its head.

The bear-ape-dog- _whatever_ rocked backwards, growling in irritation as it’s eyesight was impeded and Bella took the chance to scramble up and sprint towards the clearing near her house.

Three steps.

She only took three steps before it caught her again. 

The creature’s hand, armed with steely claws, grabbed her ankle and sent her flying to the ground. It maintained the grip, leaning up to pierce her bicep with its fangs in order to pull and flip her over. 

Bella screamed out in agony. The bite dug deep into her muscles, lighting a match under her gas-soaked skin. Fire became the only feeling. 

And yet, even now, his name burst through all the walls Bella built to contain it. _Edward, Edward, Edward._ She was going to die _._ It shouldn’t matter if she thought of him now but she did. _Edward, I love you._

The creature licked its bloody chops, snuffling along her body before settling near her neck. Bella tensed for the final blow, when a chorus of powerful howls filled the space around them.

The creature jolted back, posturing with a dominant energy towards the trees. It growled menacingly, the hackles on its back standing erect. 

More large shapes prowled out from the underbrush until she could see them clearly.

 _Wolves_ , she nearly laughed in her deliriousness, _welcome to dinner - the more the merrier._

They eased out in a large V, similar to geese flying south. Ranging from midnight black to charcoal grey to dark brown and then some. They prowled forward with a keen awareness of the other creature who had slowly inched backward as more wolves entered.

The creature gave Bella a fleeting glance as if contemplating its chance of grabbing her like a to-go box before the wolves’ snarls brought it back to attention. 

It snapped its fangs before charging to the smaller, lanky wolf on the edge of the formation, using its strength to plow past it and sprint further into the forest.

The wolves were after it in a second, chasing through the trees with a few powerful bounds, snarling and snapping so loudly that her hands flew up instinctively to cover her ears. The sound faded with surprising swiftness once they disappeared into the woods.

Bella moved her hands to put pressure on her bloody arm, breathing shallowly as darkness crept around the edges of her sight.

Something moved against her side. She glanced to the right and made eye contact with large, dark eyes.

One wolf had remained. 

It’s shaggy, long fur pressed against her with every breath pulled into its gigantic body. The deep eyes seemed somehow too intelligent, _too warm_ for a wild animal. She blinked lazily, holding the wolf’s gaze as a heady dizziness rocked her body. Her adrenaline oozed out of her, leaving her floundering towards unconsciousness. 

As the wolf snuffled her bicep - she was struck with thoughts of Jacob and gratitude.

Grateful, that she’d come here alone.

Grateful, he didn’t have to face this nightmare filled with dark monsters. 

Grateful, she wouldn’t have his death on his hands.

The moon’s vivid glow filled her vision and a distant, pained howl was the last thing she heard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all really know how to make a shawty feel warm and fuzzy. Thank you for all the kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions! I didn't expect this type of reception on Chapter 1 but it means a lot that you're as excited to read the story as I am write to it.
> 
> In celebration of that, here's a longer chapter 2! Enjoy, have a dope weekend and let me know your thoughts.

**WHAT A FOOL BELIEVES**

_Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep._

Bella’s eyes opened to bright, white light. 

She was in an unfamiliar room, a white room. The wall beside her was covered in long vertical blinds; over her head, the glaring lights blinded her. She was propped up on a hard, uneven bed - a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. The annoying beeping sound continued close by.

Bella hoped that meant she was still alive. Death shouldn’t be this uncomfortable.

Her hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped across her face, under her nose. She lifted her hand to rip it off. 

“No, you don’t.” And warm, calloused fingers caught her hand. There was a shifting next to her, followed by the leather smell of Charlie’s sheriff jacket.

“Dad?” Bella turned her head slightly, and his face was a foot from her, his body resting against the railing and slouched in a chair beside her. He looked exhausted and Bella noticed the red rims of his eyes. She realized again that she was alive, this time with gratitude and elation.

A small sob built in her throat. “Charlie, I’m so sorry.” 

“Shhh, honey,” he shushed her. “Everything’s alright now.” He reached down the bed to tug the cobalt and plum blanket up around her waist. She recognized the knitting as one of Grandma Swan’s designs. It was his favorite one.

“What happened?” Bella couldn’t remember clearly. Her mind rebelled against her as she tried to recall.

“Charlie sent me to look for you when he found your bed empty. You had gone into the forest.” A voice, deep and semi-familiar, came from the doorway. Bella looked up and saw two men standing there. She recognized one as Eli Jones, one of Charlie’s deputies and the other was...

“Sam,” Charlie said, standing to go and shake his hand. “Thank you. I’m forever grateful that you found her again.”

“You’re welcome,” He nodded. Sam turned his gaze to her and Bella was a mouse, pinned, under his dark eyes. “How are you feeling, Bella?” He flickered his solemn gaze to her leg and then her arm. 

Bella scrunched her eyebrows and took in her injuries. Her right ankle wrapped in a small black brace and her left bicep...Bella hissed when trying to touch it. It throbbed, nastily, at her tiny graze. She took in the red indents, somehow visible under layers of gauze and met Sam’s eyes.

“Confused,” she used her other arm to sit herself up more properly, “and sore.”

Charlie sighed, more calm now that she was finally awake. “A bear attack will do that to you, Bells.”

Then, memories of the nightmare came rushing back. Edward, the monster and —

Her heart monitor sped up.

“Wolves.” Bella blurted. 

“Pardon?” Eli grumbled, eyeing Bella like she might’ve gotten a concussion instead.

“I mean,” Bella shook her head, settling her thoughts. “I went hiking and I saw the bear.” She tried to be calm yet her voice was too shaky, too high. “It’s not a bear, though - it’s some kind of _different_ animal and there were wolves. Five of them; a big black one, and gray, and reddish-brown...”

Sam leaned forward with a keen intensity. Eli’s eyes grew round with horror. And Charlie strode over to Bella and pulled her into a gentle hug.

“Jesus, Bella, you could’ve been killed.” 

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

Sam broke the silence. “Are you sure it was wolves?”

Charlie leaned back and eyed Sam. Protective father and suspicious officer intertwined through his demeanor. “You think she’s lying?” 

“No.” Sam carried Charlie’s energy with the ease of a serene bodybuilder. “But I did find her in the middle of a forest, unconscious and sleep-talking about the bl—the Cullen boy again. It was dark too. There’s almost too many ways to misconceive something.” He turned that heavy look onto Bella again. “It’s important to cover all bases and be sure.”

Her head bobbed in a weak nod. Those silver eyes weren’t something she could easily forget. “I’m sure.”

Charlie tamped down his grumpiness and nodded at the tall man. “I appreciate your diligence, Sam, but the rangers did say the tracks were wrong for a bear - it’s just...wolves don’t get that big —”

“These were _huge._ ” Bella exclaimed.

“How many did you say you saw?” Eli asked, pulling out a notebook and pen.

“Five.” _And one monster._

Her father shook his head, frowning with anxiety. He spoke in a tone that allowed no argument. “No more midnight hiking.”

“No problem.” Bella promised with a fervor. 

Charlie hauled himself out of the hospital chair with a small grunt. “I’m gonna take Eli in the hall and call the station to report what you saw. Do you need anything before I go?”

Bella opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by her stomach’s firm growl. 

“Maybe some snacks?” She murmured.

Charlie chucked and ruffled her hair. “I’ll get the nurse to bring you some lunch. Rest up, alright, kiddo?”

“Yeah, thank you Dad.” She smiled, a warm feeling grazing in the ache in her chest. Charlie was too good for her sometimes.

The two officers left the room and Sam turned to follow.

Bella blurted out, “Wait.”

Sam paused and regarded her with a raised brow.

“Jacob.” She said and when he simply stared, she continued. “Is he alright?” _Where is he?_ was the real question she wanted to ask.

“He’s fine. Just occupied right now,” Sam spoke after a moment. “He asked after you, though. Nearly shook me down to find out whether you were gonna be okay.” A small, rare smile blossomed on his full lips.

She couldn’t help but prod. “Occupied how?” 

“With the flu.” Bella could practically _see_ the shutters close on Sam’s warm expression. “Right now, he’s probably puking his guts out in his old man’s toilet.” 

“Oh.” Bella leaned back into her propped pillows. It was hard to imagine _Jacob_ — healthy, sturdy, boisterous Jacob — with a cold. Yet, it made sense. Even boys who radiated sunshine could have rainy days. “Once I’m out of here, I’ll bring him some soup.”

“You shouldn’t.” Sam stated, firm.

“What do you mean ‘ _I shouldn’t_?’ He’s my friend.” Bella argued. She wasn’t sure if Sam didn’t like her or was over-protective of Jacob, but either way, Bella’s spidey senses dinged.

“Jacob needs to heal.” Sam lent against the wall adjacent to the door. “And he doesn’t need any distractions right now.” _Well, there was her answer._

The need to guard against the condemnation rose. It reminded her of _his_ words on the day he left —

_“Bella, I don't want you to come with me.” Edward had spoken the words slowly and precisely, his cold eyes on her face, watching as she absorbed what he was really saying._

_There was a pause as Bella repeated the words in her head a few times, sifting through them for their real intent._

_“You...don't...want me?” She tried out the words, confused by the way they sounded, placed in that order._

_“No.”_

Bella crossed her arms. “And I’m a distraction?” 

“Look, I know you care about him,” Sam sighed and opened the door, “but right now, the best thing you can do for Jacob is rest and wait until he reaches out to you.” His gaze flickered to her arm once more before giving her a departing nod.

“Good-bye, Bella.” And with that he walked out, leaving Bella alone to drown in a loneliness that felt as familiar as the worn heirloom blanket wrapped around her.

* * *

Charlie waved at the nurse who had helped him push Bella’s wheelchair across the parking lot to his cruiser. 

“It’s just standard hospital procedure to protect against liabilities, Bells, especially with that ankle of yours. Besides, you’ll be able to use the crutches they gave you after we get home.” Charlie had murmured to her when she protested that she could walk. And though it was logical, Bella hated making any more of a spectacle of herself. 

After another overnight stay for observation, Dr. Snow had discharged her for release. Reminding her in amused, maternal tone to stay vigilant and on beaten paths. Bella had flushed and nodded, eager to leave.

Now there they were. Driving home in a soothing silence while _The Police_ played in the background. Rainwater slid down her window as Sting crooned about stalking his love every moment of the day. Bella snorted.

Charlie eyed her in his peripheral, curious.

Bella nodded towards the radio. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Charlie frowned, perplexed, until the lyrics washed over him. He guffawed and she chuckled, the pair enjoying the moment of levity. 

“I think _Sweet Child O’ Mine_ would be a better fit.” His gruff aura opened to a rare vulnerability. Charlie turned down the music and tapped his fingers on his steering wheel to the now inaudible tune.

She waited, giving him a moment.

“Bella,” Her father began. “Finding your bed empty that night terrified me.”

“Dad —”

He raised a hand. “Let me finish, Isabella.” His voice hoarse and soft. The car suddenly became a solemn, quiet space — a confessional — and yet, somehow, Bella felt like _she_ was admitting her sins. 

“Everyday we get news of a missing person,” Charlie continued. “Seattle, Poulsbo, Sequim - the place doesn’t matter. There’s always an APB staring at me from the bulletin board. Men, women but the kids - the kids always stay with me. Some days are good days, y’know. We find them and get them tucked into bed, snug as any bug. But,” his fingers tightened on the steering wheel, “most days...you have to deal with the fact that these kids won’t be found, not alive at least. And it’s hard but it’s the job we signed up for.”

Bella didn’t dare breath even as Charlie took in a deep, shuddering one.

“The thought of you becoming one of those people. Printed in black and white, hanging in front of some random sheriff’s face. Bella, it scares the living shit out of me.” He clenched his jaw, corking his raw feelings. “And this is the third time I thought it had happened.” 

“I understand heartbreak, honey.” Charlie sighed. “And I know Edward leaving hurts, probably hurts like hell. But I need you to take better care of yourself, if not for your sake then mine.”

The familiar gravel of their driveway greeted the car tires. Charlie braked and tugged the gear shift into park. He reached over and put his hand over Bella's, engulfing it.

Bella felt nine again; gap-toothed and overwhelmed with the guilt of disappointing her father.

Charlie bent his neck to catch her gaze. His exhaustion draped across his shoulders, fitting him well. “I don't know what I or your mother would do if we lost you, Bella. So, _please_ , don’t make us find out.” He pulled her into one of his bear hugs. Renée used to call them ‘peanut butter pretzel’ hugs when she was younger. They were rough yet, when you stayed in them, they made you feel gooey and soft. 

Bella wrapped her arms around his torso. The deep sting of her bicep went ignored. 

“I’m sorry, Dad.” She choked out. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Bella.” He patted her back, and released her. Charlie watched her for a moment and then nodded. Her father got out of the car and opened her door. He slipped a sturdy arm around shoulders and helped her limp into the house.

“Now, let’s see if I can scrape up some dinner for us tonight.” A small twinkle entered his cocoa eyes.

“As long as it’s not burnt.” Bella playfully scoffed, wiping her eyes. 

Charlie chuckled. “It’s almost always burnt, Bella. You know better than that.”

* * *

Each time that Bella opened her eyes to the morning light and realized she’d lived through another night was a surprise to her. After the surprise wore off, her heart would start to race and her palms would sweat; Bella couldn't really breathe again until she'd gotten up and ascertained that Charlie had survived as well.

She could tell he was worried—watching her jump at any loud sound, or her face suddenly going white for no reason that he could see. From the questions he asked now and then, he seemed to blame the change on the trauma from the wolf attack and Jacob's continued absence. 

The terror that was always foremost in Bella’s thoughts usually distracted her from the fact that another week had passed, and Jacob still hadn't called her. But when she was able to concentrate on her normal life — if her life was really ever normal — this upset her.

Bella missed him terribly.

It had been bad enough to be alone before she was scared silly. Now, more than ever, Bella yearned for his carefree laugh and his infectious grin. She needed the safe sanity of his homemade garage and his toasty hand around her cold fingers.

Bella had half expected him to call on Monday.

If there had been some progress with his flu, wouldn't he want to report it? She wanted to believe that it was his sickness that was occupying all his time, not that he was just giving up on her.

Bella called him Tuesday, but no one answered. Were the phone lines still having problems? Or had Billy invested in caller I.D.?

On Wednesday Bella called every half hour until after eleven at night, desperate to hear the warmth of Jacob's voice.

Thursday Bella sat in her truck in front of her house — with the locks pushed down — keys in hand, for a solid hour. She was arguing with herself, trying to justify a quick trip to La Push, but she couldn't do it. 

The worry was eating a hole in her stomach. 

That night, Charlie did her another favor and called Harry again to see if the Blacks were out of town. Harry reported that Billy had attended the council meeting Wednesday night, and never mentioned anything about leaving. Charlie warned her not to drive herself crazy — Jacob would call when he got around to it.

Friday afternoon, as Bella drove home from school, it hit her out of the blue.

She wasn't paying attention to the familiar road, letting the sound of the engine deaden her brain and silence the worries, when her subconscious delivered a verdict it must have been working on for some time without Bella’s knowledge.

As soon as she thought of it, Bella felt really stupid for not seeing it sooner. Sure. She'd had a lot on her mind — silver-eyed nightmare monsters, giant mutant wolves, a ragged hole in the center of her chest — but when she laid the evidence out, it was embarrassingly obvious.

Jacob avoiding her. Billy's vague, unhelpful answers. 

Bella knew exactly what was going on with Jacob.

It was Sam Uley. Even he himself had been trying to tell her that. Sam had gotten to Jacob. Whatever was happening to the other boys on the reservation had reached out and stolen her friend. He'd been sucked into Sam's cult.

He hadn't given up on her at all, Bella realized with a rush of feeling.

She let her truck idle in front of her house. _What should I do?_

If she didn't go after him, Sam would pull him deeper into his frightening, compulsory gang. Maybe it would be too late if Bella didn't act soon.

This was a rescue mission. She was going to talk to Jacob — kidnap him if she had to. Bella had once seen a PBS show on deprogramming the brainwashed. There had to be some kind of cure.

She decided she'd better call Charlie first. Maybe whatever was going on down in La Push was something the police should be involved in. She dashed inside, in a hurry to be on her way.

Charlie answered the station phone himself.

“Chief Swan.”

“Dad, it's Bella.”

“What's wrong?”

She couldn't argue with his doomsday assumption this time. Her voice was shaking.

"I'm worried about Jacob."

"Why?" he asked, surprised by the unexpected topic.

"I think...I think something weird is going on down at the reservation. Jacob told me about some strange stuff happening with the other boys his age. Now he's acting the same way and I'm scared."

"What kind of stuff?" He used his professional, police business voice. That was good; he was taking her seriously.

"First he was scared, and then he was avoiding me, and now...I'm afraid he's part of that bizarre gang down there, Sam's gang. Sam Uley's gang."

"Sam Uley?" Charlie repeated, surprised again.

"Yes."

Charlie's voice was more relaxed when he answered. "I think you've got it wrong, Bells. Sam Uley is a great kid. Well, he's a man now. A good son. You should hear Billy talk about him. He's really doing wonders with the youth on the reservation. And he's the one who —" Charlie broke off mid-sentence, and Bella guessed that he had been about to make a reference to the nights she'd gotten lost in the woods. She moved on quickly.

"Dad, it's not like that. Jacob was _scared_ of him."

"Did you talk to Billy about this?" He was trying to soothe her now. She'd lost him as soon as she'd mentioned Sam.

"Billy's not concerned."

"Well, Bella, then I'm sure it's okay. Jacob's a kid; he was probably just messing around. I'm sure he's fine. He can't spend every waking minute with you, after all."

"This isn't about me," Bella insisted, but the battle was lost.

"I don't think you need to worry about this. Let Billy take care of Jacob."

"Charlie..." Her voice was starting to sound desperate.

"Bells, I got a lot on my plate right now.” There was a worn edge to his voice and Bella was reminded of their car ride last week. “Don't worry about Jake. I'm sure it's nothing." 

“Okay,” she said, slightly defeated, as his words reminded her of the urgent crisis on her own hands. “Love you.”

“Love you too. See you tonight.” He hung up.

She stared at the phone for a long minute. _What the hell_ , she decided.

Bella drove to La Push determined to wait. She'd sit out front of his house all night if she had to. She’d miss school. The boy was going to have to come home sometime, and when he did, he was going to have to talk to her.

Her mind was so preoccupied that the trip she'd been terrified of making felt like a few seconds. Before she expected, the forest began to thin, and Bella knew she would soon be able to see the first houses of the reservation.

Eventually she stopped in front of Jacob's house, killing the motor and rolling down the windows. It was stuffy today, no breeze. She put her feet up on the dashboard and settled in to wait.

A movement flashed in her peripheral vision — Bella turned and spotted Billy looking at her through the front window with a confused expression. She waved once and smiled a tight smile, but stayed where she was.

His eyes narrowed; he let the curtain fall across the glass.

She was prepared to stay as long as it took, but she wished she had something to do. Bella dug up a pen out of the bottom of her backpack, and an old test. She started to doodle on the back of the scrap.

Bella only had time to scrawl one row of diamonds when there was a sharp tap against her door. She jumped, looking up, expecting Billy.

"What are you doing here, Bella?'" Jacob growled.

She stared at him in blank astonishment.

Jacob had changed radically in the last weeks since she'd seen him. The first thing she noticed was his hair — his beautiful hair was all gone, cropped quite short, covering his head with an inky gloss like black satin. The planes of his face seemed to have hardened subtly, tightened...aged. His neck and his shoulders were different, too, thicker somehow. His hands, where they gripped the window frame, looked enormous, with the tendons and veins more prominent under the gold-russet skin. Yet, the physical changes were insignificant.

It was his expression that made him almost completely unrecognizable.

The open, friendly smile was gone like the hair. The warmth in his dark eyes altered to a brooding resentment that was disturbing. There was darkness in Jacob now. His inner sun had imploded.

"Jacob?" I whispered.

He just stared at her, his eyes tense and angry.

Bella realized they weren't alone. Behind him stood four others; all tall and gold-russet complexions, black hair chopped short just like Jacob's. They could have been brothers. The resemblance was only intensified by the strikingly similar hostility in every pair of eyes.

Every pair but one. The oldest by several years, Sam stood in the very back, his face serene and sure. Bella had to swallow back the bile that rose in her throat. She wanted to take a swing at him. No, she wanted to do more than that. More than anything, she wanted to be fierce and deadly, someone no one would dare mess with. 

Someone who would scare Sam Uley to death.

She wanted to be a vampire.

The violent desire caught her off guard and knocked the wind out of Bella. It was the most forbidden of all wishes — even when she only wished it for a malicious reason like this, to gain an advantage over an enemy — because it was the most painful. That future was lost to her forever, had never really been within her grasp. Bella scrambled to gain control of herself while the hollow hole in her chest ached.

"What do you want?" Jacob demanded. His face became more resentful watching the play of emotion across her face.

“I want to talk to you,” Bella said in a quiet voice.

“Go ahead,” he hissed through his teeth. His glare was vicious. She'd never seen him look at anyone like that, least of all her. It hurt with a surprising intensity — a physical pain, a stabbing in her head.

“Alone!” Bella hissed, and her voice was stronger.

He looked behind him, and she knew where his eyes would go. Every one of them was turned for Sam's reaction.

Sam nodded once, his face unperturbed. He made a brief comment in an unfamiliar, liquid language — Bella could only be positive that it wasn't French or Spanish, but she guessed that it was Quileute. He turned and walked into Jacob's house. The others, Paul, Jared, and Embry, she assumed, followed him in.

"Okay." Jacob seemed a bit less furious when the others were gone. His face was a little calmer, but also more hopeless. His mouth seemed permanently pulled down at the corners.

Bella took a deep breath. “You know what I want to know.” 

He didn't answer. He just stared at her, bitter.

She stared back and the silence stretched on. The pain in his face unnerved Bella. She felt a lump beginning to build in her throat.

"Can we walk?" Bella asked while she could still speak. He didn't respond in any way; his face didn't change.

She got out of the car, feeling unseen eyes behind the windows on her, and started walking toward the trees to the north. Bella’s feet squished in the damp grass and mud beside the road, and, as that was the only sound, at first she thought he wasn't following her. But when Bella glanced around, he was right beside her, his feet having somehow found a less noisy path than her own.

Bella felt better in the fringe of trees, where Sam couldn't possibly be watching. As they walked, she struggled for the right thing to say, but nothing came. Bella just got more and more angry that Jacob had gotten sucked in...that Billy had allowed this...that Sam was able to stand there so assured and calm...

Jacob suddenly picked up the pace, striding ahead of Bella easily with his long legs, and then swinging around to face her, planting himself in her path so she would have to stop too.

Bella was distracted by the overt grace of his movement. Jacob had been nearly as klutzy as her with his never-ending growth spurt. _When did that change?_

But Jacob didn't give her time to think about it.

"Let's get this over with," he said in a hard, husky voice.

Bella waited. He knew what she wanted.

"It's not what you think." His voice was abruptly weary. "It's not what I thought — I was way off." 

"So what is it, then?"

He studied her face for a long moment, speculating. The anger never completely left his eyes. 

"I can't tell you," he finally said.

Bella’s jaw tightened, and she spoke through her teeth. "I thought we were friends." 

"We were." There was a slight emphasis on the past tense.

"But you don't need friends anymore," she said sourly. "You have Sam. Isn't that nice — you've always looked up to him so much."

"I didn't understand him before."

"And now you've seen the light. _Hallelujah_."

"It wasn't like I thought it was. This isn't Sam's fault. He's helping me as much as he can." His voice turned brittle and he looked over Bella’s head, past her, rage burning out from his eyes.

"He's helping you," she repeated, dubious. "Naturally."

But Jacob didn't seem to be listening. He was taking deep, deliberate breaths, trying to calm himself. He was so mad that his hands were shaking.

"Jacob, please," Bella whispered. "Tell me what happened? Maybe I can help."

"No one can help me now." The words were a low moan; his voice broke.

"What did he do to you?" She demanded, tears collecting in her eyes. Bella reached out to him, as she had once before, stepping forward with her arms wide.

This time he cringed away, holding his hands up defensively. "Don't touch me," he whispered.

"Is Sam catching?" she mumbled. Tears had escaped the corners of her eyes. Bella wiped them away with the back of her hand, and folded her arms across her chest.

"Stop blaming Sam." The words came out fast, like a reflex. His hands reached up to twist around the hair that was no longer there, and then fell limply at his sides.

"Then who should I blame?" She retorted.

He flashed a small smile; it was a bleak, twisted thing.

"You don't want to hear that."

"The hell I don't!" Bella snapped. "I want to know, and I want to know _now.”_

"You're wrong," he barked back.

"Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong—I'm not the one who got brainwashed! Tell me now whose fault this all is, if it's not your precious Sam!"

"You asked for it," he growled at her, eyes glinting hard. "If you want to blame someone, why don't you point your finger at those filthy, _reeking_ bloodsuckers that you love so much?"

Bella’s mouth fell open and her breath came out with a _whooshing_ sound. She was frozen in place, stabbed through with his double-edged words. The pain twisted in familiar patterns through her body, the jagged hole ripping Bella open from the inside out, but it was second place, background music to the chaos of her thoughts. She couldn't believe that she'd heard him correctly. There was no trace of indecision in his face. Only fury.

Her mouth still hung wide.

"I told you that you didn't want to hear it," he said.

"I don't understand who you mean," Bella whispered.

He raised one eyebrow in disbelief. "I think you understand exactly who I mean. You're not going to make me say it, are you? I don't like hurting you."

"I don't understand who you mean," Bella repeated, mechanic and stilted like her wires were crossed.

“ _The Cullens_ ,” he said slowly, drawing out the words, scrutinizing her face as he spoke it. "I saw that — I can see in your eyes what it does to you when I say their name."

She shook her head back and forth in denial, trying to clear it at the same time. _How did he know this? And how did it have anything to do with Sam's cult? Was it a gang of vampire-haters? What was the point of forming such a society when no vampires lived in Forks anymore? Why would Jacob start believing the stories about the Cullens now, when the evidence of them was long gone, never to return?_

It took Bella too long to come up with the correct response. 

"Don't tell me you're listening to Billy's superstitious nonsense now," she said with a feeble attempt at mockery.

"He knows more than I gave him credit for."

"Be serious, Jacob."

He glared at me, his eyes critical.

"Superstitions aside," she said quickly. "I still don't see what you're accusing the...Cullens of. They left more than half a year ago. How can you blame them for what Sam is doing now?"

"Sam isn't _doing_ anything, Bella. And I know they're gone. But sometimes...things are set in motion, and then it's too late."

"What's set in motion? What's too late? What are you blaming them for?"

He was suddenly right in her face, his fury glowing in his eyes. "For existing," he hissed.

Bella was surprised and distracted as the warning words came in Edward's voice again, when she wasn't even scared.

"Quiet now, Bella. Don't push him," Edward cautioned in her ear.

Ever since Edward's name had broken through the careful walls she’d buried it behind, she'd been unable to lock it up again. It didn't hurt now — not during the precious seconds when she could hear his voice.

Jacob was fuming in front of her, quivering with anger.

She didn't understand why the Edward delusion was unexpectedly in her mind. Jacob was livid, but he was Jacob. There was no adrenaline, no danger.

"Give him a chance to calm down," Edward's voice insisted.

Bella shook her head in confusion. "You're being ridiculous," she told them both.

"Fine," Jacob answered, breathing deeply again. "I won't argue with you. It doesn't matter anyway, the damage is done."

_“What damage?”_

He didn't flinch as Bella shouted the words in his face.

"Let's head back. There's nothing more to say."

Bella gaped. "There's everything more to say! You haven't said anything yet!" 

"I have to get back." He walked past her, striding back toward the house so swiftly that Bella had to jog to him.

"Back to Sam!"

"That's one way of looking at it," it sounded like he said. He was mumbling and moving. Bella chased him back to the truck.

"Wait!" she called as he turned toward the house.

He spun around to face her, and Bella saw that his hands were shaking again.

"Go home, Bella. I can't hang out with you anymore."

The silly, inconsequential hurt was incredibly potent. The tears welled up again. "Are you...breaking up with me?" The words were all wrong, but they were the best way Bella could phrase what she was asking. After all, what Jake and she had was more than any schoolyard romance. Stronger and sturdier.

"Hardly. If that were the case, I'd say 'Let's stay friends.'” He barked out a bitter laugh. “I can't even say that."

"Jacob...why? Why won’t Sam let you have other friends? Please, Jake." The blank emptiness of Bella’s life before — before Jacob brought some semblance of reason back into it — reared up and confronted her. Loneliness choked in her throat. “You promised. I need you!”

"I'm sorry, Bella," Jacob said each word in a distinct, cold voice that didn't seem to belong to him. That reminded her of _him._

Bella didn't believe that this was really what Jacob wanted to say. It seemed like there was something else trying to be said through his angry eyes, but she couldn't understand the message.

Maybe this wasn't about Sam at all. Maybe this had nothing to do with the Cullens. Maybe he was just trying to pull himself out of a hopeless situation. Maybe she should let him do that, if that's what was best for him. She should do that. It would be right.

But Bella heard her own voice escaping in a whisper.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't... before... I wish I could change how I feel about you, Jacob." Bella was desperate, reaching, stretching the truth so far that it curved nearly into the shape of a lie. "Maybe...maybe I would change," she whispered. "Maybe, if you gave me some time... just don't quit on me now, Jake. I can't take it."

His face went from anger to agony in a second. One shaking hand reached out toward her.

"No. Don't think like that, Bella, please. Don't blame yourself, don't think this is your fault. This one is _all_ me. I swear, it's not about you."

"It's not you, it's me," she whispered, morbidly amused. "There's a new one."

"I mean it, Bella. I'm not..." he struggled, his voice going even huskier as he fought to control his emotion. His eyes were tortured. "I'm not good enough to be your friend anymore, or anything else. I'm not what I was before. I'm not good."

" _What_?" she stared at him, confused and appalled. "What are you saying? You're much better than I am, Jake. You are good! Who told you that you aren't? Sam? It's a lie, Jacob! Don't let him tell you that!" Bella was suddenly yelling again.

Jacob's face went hard and flat. "No one had to tell me anything. I know what I am."

"You're my friend, that's what you are! Jake — don't!"

He was backing away from her.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he said again; this time, it was a broken mumble. He turned and almost ran into the house.

Bella was unable to move from where she stood. She stared at the little house; it looked too small to hold four large boys and two larger men. There was no reaction inside. No flutter at the edge of the curtain, no sound of voices or movement. It faced Bella, with a vacant energy.

The rain started to drizzle, stinging here and there against her skin. Bella couldn't take her eyes off the house. Jacob would come back. He had to.

The rain picked up, and so did the wind. The drops were no longer falling from above; they slanted at an angle from the west. Bella could smell the brine from the ocean. Her hair whipped in her face, sticking to the wet places and tangling in her lashes. Bella waited.

Finally the door opened, and Bella took a step forward in relief.

Billy rolled his chair into the door frame. She could see no one behind him.

"Bella. Charlie just called. I told him you were on your way home." His eyes were full of pity.

Somehow, the pity made it final. She didn't comment. She just turned, robotic in her steps, and climbed in her truck. She’d left the windows open and the seats were slick and wet. It didn't matter. She was already soaked.

 _Not as bad!_ Bella’s mind tried to comfort her. It was true. This wasn't as bad. This wasn't the end of the world, not again. This was just the end of what little peace there was left behind. That was all.

 _Not as bad_ , she agreed, then added, _but bad enough_.

Bella had thought Jacob had been healing the hole in her — or at least plugging it up, keeping it from hurting her so much. 

She'd been wrong. He'd just been carving out his own hole, so that she was now riddled through.

An emotional driveby leaving her bleeding out in the rain, alone.

Bella wondered why she didn't just crumble into pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacob: I’d like some space. Gonna spend time working on myself.
> 
> Bella: …And I took that personally.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wassup y'all - once again, I want to say a huge thank you for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks! This is the most interactive fandom I've been a part of as a writer so far and it's been super dope & heartwarming to read your personal thoughts & theories on where the story is going. 
> 
> I've been looking forward to posting this chapter because this is the last one before we really break away from canon (shoutout to Meyer for most of the details in this chapter) and Bella gets herself into a very...sticky situation with a familiar face. 
> 
> I hope y'all have a fantastic weekend.

**HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT**

Charlie was waiting on the porch. 

As Bella rolled to a stop, he walked out to meet her.

"Billy called. He said you got in a fight with Jake — said you were pretty upset," he explained as he opened Bella’s car door for her.

Then he looked at her face. A subtle, horrified recognition registered in his expression. Bella tried to feel her face from the inside out, to know what he was seeing. Her face felt frozen and Bella realized what it would remind him of.

"That's not exactly how it happened," she muttered.

Charlie put his arm around her and helped Bella out of the car. He didn't comment on her sodden clothes.

“Then what did happen?” he asked when they were inside. He pulled the afghan off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her shoulders. Bella realized she was still shivering.

Her voice was lifeless. “Sam Uley says Jacob can't be my friend anymore.”

Charlie shot her a strange look. “Who told you that?”

“Jacob,” she stated, though that wasn't exactly what he'd said. _It was still true._

Charlie's eyebrows pulled together. “You really think there's something wrong with Uley?”

“I know there is. Jacob wouldn't tell me what, though.” Bella could hear the water from her clothes dripping to the floor and splashing on the linoleum. “I'm going to go change.”

Charlie was lost in thought. “Okay,” he said absently.

Bella decided to take a shower because she was still cold, but the hot water didn't seem to affect the temperature of her skin. She was still freezing when she gave up and shut the water off. In the sudden quiet, she could hear Charlie talking to someone downstairs. Bella wrapped a towel around herself and cracked open the bathroom door.

Charlie's voice was angry. “I'm not buying that. It doesn't make any sense.”

It was quiet then, and she realized he was on the phone. A minute passed.

"Don't you put this on Bella." Charlie suddenly barked.

She jumped. When he spoke again, his voice was careful and lower. "Bella's made it very clear all along that she and Jacob were just friends...Well, if that was it, then why didn't you say so at first? No, Billy, I think she's right about this... Because I know my daughter, and if she says Jacob was scared before —” He was cut off mid-sentence, and when he answered he was almost shouting.

"What do you mean I don't know my daughter as well as I think I do?" He listened for a brief second, and his response was almost too low for Bella to hear. "If you think I'm going to remind her about that, then you had better think again. She's only just starting to get over it, and mostly because of Jacob, I think. If whatever Jacob has going on with Sam sends her back into that depression, then Jacob is going to have to answer to me. You're my best friend, Billy, but this is hurting my family."

There was another break for Billy to respond.

"You got that right — those boys set one toe out of line and I'm going to know about it. We'll be keeping an eye on the situation, you can be sure of that." He was no longer Charlie; he was Chief Swan now.

"Fine. Yeah. Goodbye." The phone slammed into the cradle.

Bella tiptoed across the hall into her room. Charlie was muttering, angrily, in the kitchen. _So Billy was going to blame me._

She was leading Jacob on and he'd finally had enough.

It was strange, for Bella feared that herself, but after the last thing Jacob had said this afternoon, she didn't believe it anymore. There was much more to this than an unrequited crush, and it surprised her that Billy would stoop to claiming that. It made her think that whatever secret they were keeping was bigger than Bella had been imagining. _At least Charlie was on my side now._

She put her pajamas on and crawled into bed. Right now, life seemed dark enough to let herself cheat. The hole — _holes_ now — were already aching, so why not? Bella pulled out the memory — not a real memory that would hurt _too_ much, but the false memory of Edward's voice in her mind this afternoon — and played it over and over in her head until Bella fell asleep with tears still streaming down her unconscious face.

It was a new dream tonight. 

Rain was falling and Jacob was walking soundlessly beside Bella, though _her_ feet crunched the ground beneath her like dry gravel. But he wasn't her Jacob; he was the new, bitter, graceful Jacob. The smooth suppleness of his walk reminded Bella of someone else, and, as she watched, his features started to change.

The russet color of his skin leached away, leaving his face bone white. His eyes turned silver, crimson, and then a familiar, warm gold. His shorn hair twisted in the breeze, turning bronze where the wind touched it. And his face became so beautiful that it shattered her heart. Bella reached for him, but he took a step away, raising his hands as a shield. And then Edward vanished.

Bella wasn't sure, when she woke in the dark, if she'd just begun crying, or if her tears had run while she slept and simply continued now. She stared at her dark ceiling. Bella could feel that it was the middle of the night — she was still half-asleep, maybe more than. She closed her eyes, weary, and prayed for a dreamless sleep.

That's when she heard the noise. 

The one that must have woken Bella up in the first place. Something sharp scraped along the length of her window with a high-pitched squeal, like fingernails against the glass. 

Bella’s eyes flew wide open with fright. Though she was half-convinced through her exhaustion that she was dreaming.

Something scratched again with the same thin, high-pitched sound.

Clumsy with sleep, Bella stumbled out of her bed and to the window, blinking away the lingering tears.

A huge, dark shape wobbled erratically on the other side of the glass, lurching toward her like it was going to smash right through. Bella staggered back, terrified, her throat closing around a scream.

_The monster._

It'd come for her.

She was dead.

_Not Charlie, too!_

Bella choked back the building scream. She would have to keep quiet through this. Somehow, she had to keep Charlie from coming to investigate.

And then a familiar, husky voice emerged from the dark shape.

" _Bella!_ " it hissed. “Ouch! Damn it, open the window! OUCH!”

Bella needed two seconds to shake off the horror before she could move, but then she hurried to the window and shoved the glass out of the way. The clouds were dimly lit from behind, enough for her to make sense of the shapes.

"What are you _doing_?" she gasped.

Jacob was clinging precariously to the top of the spruce that grew in the middle of Charlie's little front yard. His weight had bowed the tree toward the house and he now swung — his legs dangling twenty _feet_ above the ground — not a yard away from Bella. The thin branches at the tip of the tree scraped against the side of the house again with a grating squeal.

"I'm trying to keep" — he huffed, shifting his weight as the treetop bounced him —"my promise!"

Bella blinked her wet blurry eyes, suddenly sure that she was dreaming.

"When did you ever promise to kill yourself falling out of Charlie's tree?"

He snorted, unamused, swinging his legs to improve his balance. "Get out of the way," he ordered. 

"What?"

He swung his legs again, backwards and forward, increasing his momentum. Bella realized what he was trying to do.

"No, Jake!"

But she ducked to the side, because it was too late. With a grunt, he launched himself toward her open window.

Another scream built in her throat as she waited for him to fall to his death — or at least maim himself against the wooden siding. To Bella’s shock, he swung agilely into her room, landing on the balls of his feet with a low thud.

They both looked to the door automatically, holding their breath, waiting to see if the noise had woken Charlie. A short moment of silence passed, and then they heard the muffled sound of Charlie's snore.

A wide grin spread slowly across Jacob's face; he seemed extremely pleased with himself. It wasn't the grin that she knew and loved — it was a new grin, one that was a mockery of his old sincerity. _On the new face that belonged to Sam._

This was a bit much for Bella.

She had cried herself _to sleep_ over this boy. His harsh rejection had punched a painful new hole in what was left of her chest. He'd left a new nightmare behind him, like an infection in a deep cut — the insult after the injury. And now he was here in her room, smirking at Bella as if none of that had passed. Worse than that, even though his arrival had been noisy and awkward, it reminded her of when Edward used to sneak in through her window at night, and the reminder picked viciously at the unhealed wounds.

All of this, coupled with the fact that she was dog-tired, did not put Bella in a positive, _hosting_ mood. 

"Get out!" she hissed, putting as much venom into the whisper as she could.

He blinked, his face going blank with surprise.

"No," he protested. "I came to apologize.”

"I don't _accept!_ "

Bella tried to shove him back out the window—after all, if this was a dream, it wouldn't really hurt him. It was useless, though. She didn't budge him an inch. Bella dropped her hands quickly, and stepped away from him.

He wasn't wearing a shirt, though the air blowing in the window was cold enough to make her shiver, and it made her uncomfortable to have her hands on his bare chest. His skin was burning hot like he was still sick with the fever.

Though, he didn't _look_ sick. He looked _huge_. He leaned over Bella, so big that he blacked out the window, tongue-tied by her furious reaction.

Suddenly, it was just more than Bella could handle — it felt as if all of her sleepless nights were crashing down on her en masse. She was so brutally tired that she thought she might collapse right there on the floor. She swayed unsteadily, and struggled to keep her eyes open.

"Bella?" Jacob whispered, anxious. He caught her elbow, careful to avoid her bandaged arm, as she swayed again, and steered Bella back to the bed. Her legs gave out when she reached the edge, and Bella plopped into a limp heap on the mattress.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jacob asked, worry creasing his forehead.

Bella looked up at him. "Why in the world would I be _okay_ , Jacob?"

Anguish replaced some of the bitterness in his face. "Right," he agreed, and took a deep breath. "Crap. Well...I — I'm so sorry, Bella." The apology was sincere, no doubt about it, though there was still an angry twist to his features.

"Why did you come here? I don't want apologies from you, Jake."

"I know," he whispered. "But I couldn't leave things the way I did this afternoon. That was horrible. I'm sorry."

Bella shook her head, weary. "I don't understand anything."

"I know. I want to explain —" He broke off suddenly, his mouth open, almost like something had cut off his air. Then he sucked in a deep breath. "But I _can't_ explain," he said, still angry. "I wish I could."

Bella let her head fall into her hands. Her question came out muffled by her arm. "Why?"

He was quiet for a moment. She twisted her head to the side — too tired to hold it up — to see his expression. It surprised Bella. His eyes were squinted, his teeth clenched, his forehead wrinkled in effort.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He exhaled heavily, and she realized he'd been holding his breath, too. "I can't do it," he muttered, frustrated.

"Do what?"

He ignored her question. "Look, Bella, haven't you ever had a secret that you couldn't tell anyone?"

He looked at her with knowing eyes, and Bella’s thoughts jumped to the Cullens. She hoped her expression didn't look guilty.

"Something you felt like you had to keep from Charlie, from your mom...?" he pressed. "Something you won't even talk about with me? Not even now?"

Bella felt her eyes tighten. She didn't answer his question, though she knew he would take that as a confirmation.

"Can you understand that I might have the same kind of...situation?" He was struggling again, seeming to fight for the right words. "Sometimes, loyalty gets in the way of what you want to do. Sometimes, it's not your secret to tell."

So, she couldn't argue with that. He was exactly right — Bella had a secret that wasn't her to tell, yet a secret she felt bound to protect. A secret that, suddenly, he seemed to know all about.

She still didn't see how it applied to him, or Sam, or Billy. What was it to them, now that the Cullens were gone?

"I don't know why you came here, Jacob, if you were just going to give me riddles instead of answers." 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "This is so frustrating."

They looked at each other for a long moment in the dark room; both of their faces hopeless.

"The part that kills me," he said abruptly, "is that you already _know_. I already _told you_ everything!"

"What are you talking about?"

He sucked in a startled breath, and then leaned toward her, his face shifting from gloom to a blazing intensity in a second. He stared fiercely into her eyes, his voice fast and eager. He spoke the words right into Bella’s face; his breath was as warm as his skin.

"I think I see a way to make this work out — because you know this, Bella! I can't tell you, but if you _guessed_ it! That would let me right off the hook!"

"You want me to guess? Guess _what_?"

" _My_ secret! You can do it—you know the answer!"

Bella blinked twice, trying to clear her head. She was exhausted. Nothing he said made sense.

He took in her blank expression, and then his face tensed with effort again. "Hold on, let me see if I give you some help," he said. _Whatever he was trying to do, it was hard enough that he’s panting._

"Help?" she asked, trying to keep up. Bella’s eyes wanted to slip closed, but she forced them open. 

"Yeah," he said, breathing hard. "Like clues."

He took her face in his enormous, too-hot hands and held it a few inches from his. He stared into Bella’s eyes while he whispered, as if to communicate something besides the words he spoke.

"Remember the first day we met — on the beach in La Push?"

"Of course I do."

"Tell me about it." 

Bella took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. "You asked about my truck..." 

He nodded, urging her on.

"We talked about the Rabbit..." 

"Keep going."

"We went for a walk down the beach..." Bella’s cheeks flushed under his palms as she remembered, but he wouldn't notice, hot as his skin was. She'd asked him to walk with her, flirting ineptly but successfully, in order to pump him for information. _Maybe Billy was onto something..._

He was nodding, anxious for more.

Her voice was nearly soundless. "You told me scary stories...Quileute legends."

He closed his eyes and opened them again. " _Yes._ " The word was tense, fervent, like he was on the edge of something vital. He spoke slowly, making each word distinct. "Do you remember what I said?"

Even in the dark, he must be able to see the change in the color of her face. How could she ever forget that? Without realizing what he was doing, Jacob had told Bella exactly what she needed to know that day — that Edward was a vampire.

He looked at her with eyes that knew too much. "Think hard," he told Bella. 

"Yes, I remember," she breathed.

He inhaled deeply, struggling. "Do you remember _all_ the stor —" He couldn't finish the question. His mouth popped open like something had stuck in his throat.

"All the stories?" she asked.

He nodded, mute.

Bella’s head churned. Only one story really mattered. She knew he'd begun with others, but she couldn't remember the inconsequential prelude, especially not while her brain was so clouded with fog. Bella started to shake her head.

Jacob groaned and jumped off the bed. He pressed his fists against his forehead and breathed fast and angry. "You know this, you know this," he muttered to himself.

"Jake? Jake, please, I'm _tired._ I'm no good at this right now. Maybe in the morning..."

He took a steadying breath and nodded. "Maybe it will come back to you. I guess I understand why you only remember the one story," he added in a sarcastic, despondent tone. He plunked back onto the mattress beside her. "Do you mind if I ask you a question about that?" he asked, still sarcastic. "I've been dying to know."

"A question about what?" Bella asked, wary.

"About the vampire story I told you."

Bella stared at him with guarded eyes, unable to answer. He asked anyway.

"Did you honestly not know?" he asked her, his voice turning husky. "Was I the one who told you what he was?"

 _How did he know this_? Why did he decide to believe, why _now?_ Bella’s teeth clenched together. She stared back at him, no intention of speaking. He could see that.

"See what I mean about loyalty?" he murmured, even huskier now. "It's the same for me, only worse. You can't imagine how tight I'm bound..."

Bella didn't like that — didn't like the way his eyes closed as if he were in pain when he spoke of being bound. _More than dislike_ — Bella realized she _hated_ it, hated anything that caused him pain. Hated it fiercely.

Sam's face filled her mind.

For Bella, this was all essentially voluntary. She protected the Cullens' secret out of love; unrequited, but true. For Jacob, it didn't seem to be that way.

"Isn't there any way for you to get free?" she whispered, touching the rough edge at the back of his shorn hair.

His hands began to tremble, but he didn't open his eyes. "No. I'm in this for life. A life sentence." A bleak laugh. "Longer, maybe."

"No, Jake," she protested. "What...what if we ran away? Just you and me. What if we left home, and left Sam behind?"

"It's not something I can run away from, Bella," he whispered. "I would run with you, though, if I could." His shoulders were shaking now, too. He took a deep breath. "Look, I've got to leave."

"Why?"

"For one thing, you look like you're going to pass out at any second. You need your sleep—I need you firing on all pistons. You're going to figure this out, you have to. There’s...more you need to know."

"And why else?"

He frowned. "I had to sneak out — I'm not supposed to see you. They've got to be wondering where I am." His mouth twisted. "I suppose I should go let them know."

"You don't have to tell them anything," she hissed. 

"All the same, I will."

The anger flashed hot inside her. "I _hate_ them!"

Jacob looked at Bella with wide eyes, surprised. "No, Bella. Don't hate the guys. It's not Sam's or any of the others' faults. I told you before — it's me. Sam is actually...well, incredibly cool. Jared and Paul are great, too, though Paul is kind of... And Embry's always been my friend. Nothing's changed there — the _only_ thing that hasn't changed. I feel really bad about the things I used to think about Sam..."

"Sam was _incredibly cool_." Bella glared at him in disbelief. "Then why aren't you supposed to see me?" 

"It's not safe," he mumbled, looking down.

His words sent a thrill of fear through Bella.

Did he know _that_ , too? Nobody knew that besides me. But he was right — it was the middle of the night, the perfect time for hunting, for monsters. Jacob shouldn't be here in her room. If someone ( _something_ ) came for Bella, she had to be alone.

"If I thought it was too...too risky," he whispered, "I wouldn't have come. But Bella," he looked at her again, "I made you a promise. I had no idea it would be so hard to keep, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try."

He saw the incomprehension in her face. "I promised you that I wouldn't ever hurt you…” Jacob reminded her, “so I really blew it this afternoon, didn't I?"

"I know you didn't want to do it, Jake. It's okay."

"Thanks, Bella." He took her hand. "I'm going to do what I can to be here for you, just like I promised." He grinned at her suddenly. The grin was not Bella’s, nor Sam's, but some strange combination of the two. "It would really help if you could figure this out on your own, Bella. Put some honest effort into it."

She made a weak grimace. "I'll try."

"And I'll try to see you soon." He sighed. "And they'll try to talk me out of that."

"Don't listen to them."

"I'll try." He shook his head, as if he doubted his success. "Come and tell me as soon as you figure it out." Something occurred to him just then, something that made his hands shake. "If you... if you _want_ to."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?"

His face turned to stone. "Oh, I can think of a few reasons," he said in a harsh tone. "Look, I really have to go. Could you do something for me?"

Bella only nodded, frightened of the change in him.

"At least call me — if you don't want to see me again. Let me know if it's like that."

"That won't happen —"

He raised one hand, cutting her off. "Just let me know."

He stood and headed for the window.

"Don't be an idiot, Jake," she complained. "You'll break your leg. Use the door. Charlie's not going to catch you."

"I won't get hurt," he muttered, but he turned for the door. He hesitated as he passed her, staring at Bella with an anguished expression. He held one hand out, pleading.

Bella took his hand, and suddenly he yanked her — too roughly — right off the bed so that she thudded against his chest.

"Just in case," he muttered against her hair, crushing her in a bear hug that about broke Bella’s ribs. "Can't — breathe!" she gasped.

He dropped her at once, keeping one hand at her waist so Bella didn't fall over. He pushed her, more gently this time, back down on the bed.

"Get some sleep, Bells. You've got to get your head working. I know you can do this. I _need you_. to understand. I won't lose you, Bella. Not for this."

He was to the door in one stride, opening it quietly, and then disappearing through it. Bella listened for him to hit the squeaky step in the stairs, but there was no sound.

Bella lay back on her bed, her head spinning. She was too confused, too worn out. Bella closed her eyes, trying to make sense of it, only to be swallowed up by unconsciousness so swift that it was disorienting.

It was not the peaceful, dreamless sleep she'd yearned for — _of course not._ She was in the forest again, and she started to wander the way she always did.

Quickly, she became aware that this was not the same, usual dream. For one thing, Bella felt no compulsion to wander or to search; she was merely wandering out of habit, because that was what was usually expected of her here. Actually...this wasn't even the same forest. The smell was different, and the light, too. It smelled, not like the damp earth of the woods, but like the brine of the ocean and...sulfurous _clay_? She couldn't see the sky; still, it seemed like the sun must be shining — the leaves above were bright jade green.

This was the forest around La Push — near the beach there, she was sure of it. Bella knew that if she found the beach, she would be able to see the sun, so she hurried forward, following the faint sound of waves in the distance.

And then Jacob was there. He grabbed her hand, pulling Bella back toward the blackest part of the forest.

"Jacob, what's wrong?" she asked. His face was the frightened face of a boy, and his hair was beautiful again, swept back into a ponytail on the nape of his neck. He yanked with all his strength, but she resisted; Bella didn't want to go into the dark.

"Run, Bella, you have to run!" he whispered, terrified.

The abrupt wave of deja vu was so strong it almost woke Bella up.

Bella knew why she recognized this place now. It was because she'd been here before, in another dream. A million years ago, part of a different life really. This was the dream she'd had the night after she'd walked with Jacob on the beach, the first night Bella knew that Edward was a vampire. Reliving that day with Jacob must have dredged this dream out of her buried memories.

Detached from the dream now, she waited for it to play out. A light was coming toward her from the beach. In just a moment, Edward would walk through the trees, his skin faintly glowing and his eyes black and dangerous. He would beckon to her, and smile. He would be beautiful as an angel, and his teeth would be pointed and sharp...

But Bella was getting ahead of herself. Something else had to happen first.

Jacob dropped her hand and yelped. Shaking and twitching, he fell to the ground at her feet.

"Jacob!" she screamed, but he was gone. In his place was an enormous, red-brown wolf with dark, intelligent eyes.

The dream veered off course, like a train jumping the tracks.

This was not the same wolf that Bella had dreamed of in another life. This was the great russet wolf she'd stood mere inches from in the forest, just a week ago. This wolf was gigantic, monstrous, bigger than a bear.

This wolf stared intently at Bella, trying to convey something vital with his intelligent eyes. 

The dark brown, familiar eyes of Jacob Black.

Bella awoke screaming at the top of her lungs.

She almost expected Charlie to come check on her this time. This wasn't her usual screaming. She buried her head in the pillow and tried to muffle the hysterics that her screams were building into. Bella pressed the cotton tight against her face, wondering if she couldn't also somehow smother the connection she'd just made.

But Charlie didn't come in. Eventually, she was able to strangle the strange screeching coming out of her throat.

She remembered it all now — every word that Jacob had said to her that day on the beach, even the part before he got to the vampires, the _"cold ones._ " Especially that first part.

" _Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from_ — _the Quileutes, I mean?" he asked_.

_"Not really," I admitted._

_"Well, there are lots of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Flood_ — _supposedly, the ancient Quileutes tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest trees on the mountain to survive, like Noah and the ark." Then he smiled, to show me how little stock he put in the histories. "Another legend claims that we descended from wolves_ — _and that the wolves are our brothers still. It's against tribal law to kill them_.”

_"Then there are the stories about the cold ones." His voice dropped a little lower._

_"The cold ones?"_

_"Yes. There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land." Jacob rolled his eyes._

_"Your great-grandfather?"_

" _He was a tribal elder, like my father. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf_ — _well, not the wolf really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves._ "

_"Werewolves have enemies?"_

_"Only one."_

There was something stuck in her throat, choking her. Bella tried to swallow it down, but it was lodged there, un-moving. She tried to spit it out.

"Werewolf," she gasped.

The whole world lurched, tilting the wrong way on its axis.

_What kind of a place was this?_

Could a world really exist where ancient legends went wandering around the borders of tiny, insignificant towns, facing down mythical monsters? Did this mean every impossible fairy tale was grounded somewhere in absolute truth? Was there anything sane or normal at all, or was everything just magic and ghost stories?

Bella clutched her head in her hands, trying to keep it from exploding.

A small, dry voice in the back of her mind asked her what the big deal was. Hadn't she already accepted the existence of vampires long ago — and without all the hysterics that time?

 _Exactly!_ Bella wanted to scream back at the voice. Wasn't one myth enough for anyone? Enough for a lifetime?

Besides, there'd never been one moment that she wasn't completely aware that Edward Cullen was above and beyond the ordinary. It wasn't such a surprise to find out what he was — because he so obviously was _something_.

But _Jacob?_ Jacob, her friend? Jacob, the only human she'd ever been able to relate to...

_And he wasn't even human._

She fought the urge to scream again. What did this say about her?

Bella knew the answer to that one. _There’s something deeply wrong with me._

Why else would her life be filled with characters and creatures from horror movies? Why else would she care so much about them that it would tear big chunks right out of her chest when they went off along their mythical ways?

In her head, everything spun and shifted. Rearranging so that things that had meant one thing before, now meant something else.

There was no cult. There had never been a cult, never been a gang. It was _a pack_.

A pack of five gigantic, multihued werewolves that had stalked right past Bella in that pitch black forest and…

Bella didn't know anything about werewolves, _clearly._ She would have expected something closer to the movies — big hairy half-men creatures or something — if she'd expected anything at all. So Bella didn't know what made them hunt, whether hunger or thirst or a desire to kill or...to protect. It was hard to judge, not knowing that.

Jacob was her best friend. But he and the other La Push boys were on a different path.

Now, what should _she_ choose? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I spent some time this week watching some breakdowns on Twilight & New Moon by a channel called Cinema Therapy on Youtube and it was really interesting (and mordibly funny) to see how unhealthy Bella's relationship with Jacob and Edward were. 
> 
> I feel it's a pretty common understanding in the Twilight fandom about how you shouldn't idealize the romantic relationships in the books & movies but what really caught my attention was how Cinema Therapy mentioned that it seemed Bella was using Jacob and the mirage of Edward to fill the hole/abandonment she had within herself (which she also mentions a lot in the movies too). 
> 
> Makes sense to me too, with how she reacts so intensely to what should be just a semi-regular breakup - even if her ex-boyfriend is a vampire. 
> 
> Anyways, random thoughts aside, this came to my mind because of writingfail's comment and their mention of Bella's behavior in the face of desperation & loneliness. The sort of recklessness that emerges when you feel like you have nothing to lose and no way to control anything. 
> 
> It'll be interesting to see how that intertwines with the future chapters...
> 
> Peace,  
> Elysium


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I hope you're having a great weekend and doing well. Spring semester has been going the rounds with me, so I appreciate the patience on this chapter. I'm thinking of pushing updates to once every other week, rather than every week to help balance school with posting consistently on this story. 
> 
> But, today, as a special treat - double update! 
> 
> A couple weeks ago, I mentioned being excited for the next chapter as it really kicked off this story's divergence from canon but it ended up building to almost 10k+ words (Christ on sale haha) so I had to split that big boy into two parts.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy the next chapter and as always, thank you for all the comments, kudos and bookmarks! 
> 
> Stay blessed,  
> Elysium

**LAGGING SIGNAL**

In hindsight, Bella ought to have noticed the changes. 

She could’ve blamed Jacob’s...predicament or her heartbreak or any average teenage woe. 

Yet, to be honest? It had been a long time since she felt connected to _something_ ; not since Edward.

And how does one ground themselves with no baseline of reality? Of who they are?

Bella had no tether, especially not with Jacob re-shattering the glass ceiling of her cognitive dissonance with the buoyancy she’d come to know him for. 

Life was holding her sanity in a half-nelson and Bella wasn’t afraid to admit she needed to tap out. 

She wouldn’t avoid everything (and _everyone)_ for long. _Just enough to recuperate._ Because if there was one thing she’d learn during her earlier months of detached blankness — when the mere thought of Edward made her heart feel like an infected, pulsing wound — it was that the world spun forward, no matter how heavy her mere mortal struggles weighed on her.

Maybe that's why during her month long mental vacation dedicated to repressing any thoughts of vampires or... _wolves,_ life decided to show why she wasn’t exempt from its eternal, _simple_ rule. 

Because that’s when the first sign came.

* * *

Her dream started with the usual, elusive suspects: 

Sunshine. _Check._

Edward. _Check._

Happiness. _Check._

The meadow was basking in the last remnants of the setting sun, while Bella and Edward laid together in the balmy grass. They held hands, cradling love in their eyes as they looked at one another while American Lady butterflies and Blue-eyed Darners fluttered around their heads.

Edward moved his palm to hold Bella’s wrist and ran a gentle, cool thumb over her racing pulse point. It was a soft reminder of his nature — an aphrodisiac warning that made Bella’s hormones spin.

He leaned forward with a keen, heated intent in his topaz gaze. Bella gasped; (she supposed part of the thrill was not knowing whether he would kiss or kill her.).

She noted the slight pucker and closed her eyes. His kisses were sugar-coated opioids that goaded a fiendish energy within Bella. Nothing could make this moment better.

And then a low, ragged growl punctured the air.

Bella’s eyes jolted open and found herself scooped onto Edward’s tense back while he looked toward the shadowed woods with a foreboding aura.

 _But the sun was just_ — _?_

She didn’t have time to question the sudden darkness. Edward gritted out “Hold on,” jetting through the pines opposite the sound’s origin.

The trees parted (distorted in their bend) and allowed their entrance. Bella felt like an insect in a Venus fly trap, waiting for the branches to snap forward and devour them whole. But, somehow, the path held open. Bella tucked her head into his neck, inhaling. His floral-honey scent soothed her fretful bones. There was no reason to fear with Edward around. After all, what could stop _him_?

Soon though, Edward jerked to stop causing Bella to almost whiplash. She’d never seen him this uncoordinated and if that worried her than seeing his face _terrified_ her. 

Bella got a glimpse as Edward reached around to put her down behind himself before turning to face the path. She’d only seen this wide-eyed, feral snarl once before. That night. Her hallucination in the forest. 

Edward crouched lower, a hoarse rumble building in his chest as he kept his gaze locked on the trees further out. They waited in a terrible, tense silence.

Bella kept her eyes poised on the trees. Soon after, the leaves began to rustle and footsteps — hurried and furious — pounded nearer. 

She braced herself when the creature chasing them burst through the trees. 

Her heart stuttered, looking into the obsidian irises of Jasper Hale.

His normally coiffed, polite demeanor was possessed by the hunger that overtook his body. With his chino pants wrinkled and button-down shirt slashed by the many sharp tree branches around them — Jasper let out a primal growl and tilted his head as he angled towards the couple.

Bella was surprised. This couldn’t be what made Edward so scared...could it? His own _brother_?

“Jasper —" she began before Edward held his arm out as a makeshift steel bar. He shook his head with that same fear in his eyes. Edward tilted his head towards Jasper and Bella turned to look.

The blonde was suddenly on his knees, head planted forward into the mossy floor. Bella would’ve thought he was praying if it weren’t for his claws clenching the ground with an absentminded fervor and the tiny shiver running through his body.

_Wait...claws?_

Small tendrils of heat began to rise from Jasper’s body. 

Edward tugged Bella onto his back, turning away from his brother to run.

For a fragile moment, time came to a halt. She became Lot’s wife after Sodom & Gomorrah — aching for a curious glimpse at destruction.

Bella took the chance and looked back.

Her regret was instantaneous.

Jasper lurched his head up to meet Bella’s stare. His own eyes shone; no longer black but mercurial and shining with a raw mindlessness that beat out his previous hunger.

His shivers intensified, vibrating at the frequency of a tuning fork. 

As Edward took his first steps, Jasper crouched and an onyx beast exploded forward in his place. Leaving Jasper's clothes dropping like gruesome confetti around it.

The creature lunged at them, maw open for blood.

Bella screamed and jerked awake in her bed.

She choked on her breath; sweat clinging her pajamas to the back of her neck. Her chest rose and fell to a staccato beat. Half-stuck in the remnants of her dream, Bella glanced around her room. She searched for any signs of the creature, Jasper or...him.

She caught herself when she leaned over to peek under her bed frame.

Bella scoffed. _Finally an adult and you’re still searching for monsters under the bed?_

 _Wouldn’t everybody if they knew they were real?_ Her mind whispered back.

She took those comforting words to another uneasy, ( _thankfully)_ dreamless sleep.

It was a mere hour later when the shrill chirping of her 6:30am alarm echoed in Bella’s room.

_Eep! Eep! Eep!_

_Eep! Eep! Ee—_

_CRUNCH._

An unconscious Bella removed her fist from the plastic, crumbled remains of her clock. Weariness seeped into her spine and dragged her back to sleep.

45 minutes later, she was awoken by a firm knock.

“Bella, are you up in there? Gotta get ready for school.” Charlie said, muffled by the door.

She groaned. Miffed at the disturbance and the feel of sharp bits digging into her skin.

_What the —?_

“Bella?” Charlie called, knocking a little louder.

“I’m coming, goddamn it! _Wait_.” Bella shouted back. Her eyes widened and she popped a palm over her mouth. 

She had never yelled at Charlie. _Ever._

There was a confused silence as her father came to the same conclusion. 

“Isabella _,_ I’m...gonna assume you woke on the wrong side of the bed today and let that go,” Charlie grumbled, “but you have fifteen minutes to leave before you’re late. So _hurry_ up.” With that, Charlie trudged away to start his morning and left his daughter scrambling to pick out clothes and rush to the shower.

In her haste, Bella didn’t question the broken remains of her clock and chalked it to a freak accident.

She sped through her bathroom routine; eyes twitching at the temperature of the lukewarm water, nose flaring at the heavy scratch of her towel and fists clenched at the way her long hair soaked the collar of her worn henley. 

It was like someone put her blood on the stove and set the knob to eight. Everything was a nuisance.

Grumbling under her breath, Bella headed down the stairs. She stomped to the cabinets to grab a thermos for coffee and a granola bar.

Charlie sipped on his own mug, pausing in his daily newspaper ritual to watch his daughter. Bella grabbed her now-full container with a heavy grip causing some hot coffee to splash on her wrists. His eyebrows raised as he heard the rather...creative curse words flow from Bella’s mouth. Even his deputies would have trouble matching the vocabulary.

“Bells?” Charlie called, concerned and just a tad amused.

He watched as Bella gripped the counter with white-knuckled grip. She took a deep breath and uttered a strained, but soft “Hm?”

“Why don’t you sit with me for a moment before you head out?” He asked, patting the table.

Bella turned around, giving him a tight smile. She packed her items into her backpack and sat down in the chair across from him. 

“How are you feeling, honey?” 

“...Good.” He eyed the way Bella’s index finger tapped a rapid beat against the tabletop. “Just a little tired.”

Charlie nodded, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. “Nothing going on I can help with? Homework? I’m not a wiz at math but I can hold my own.”

“Nope, school’s good.” Bella’s ankle bounced to the same rhythm as her finger. “Got an A on my math test last week.”

“I’m proud of you.” Charlie leaned forward, edging into his officer persona. He had a hunch. “So how’s everything with you and Jacob? He left a couple messages last week — said he wanted to talk to you.”

Bella froze. The tapping restarted a faster tempo. “Yeah...we, uh, talked a little after that day in La Push and I decided to take your advice and give him some space.”

“Hm, it doesn’t sound like he needs that space anymore. And I know how much you care about him. Maybe you should give him a call?”

“Maybe _I’m_ the one that needs space and _he's_ the one who should give it to me.” Bella flashed a dark glare that startled him. She shifted in her chair and went silent again.

 _Bingo_ , Charlie thought but he decided to let it lie. Lord knows teenage drama was not his forte.

“Well, then he should respect that. I’ll let him know the next time he calls.” He patted her hand, hesitating at the warmth he could feel radiating off it. _Puberty_ , he brushed it off.

Bella relaxed and gave him a small smile. “Thanks, dad.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Charlie rubbed his chin. “Listen, I want you to be careful and stay out of the woods, like I told you before.” It took Bella a minute to understand, antsy as she was.

“More trouble?”

“Two missing hikers having gone missing off a trail outside Crescent Lake.” Charlie nodded, frowning. There was an anxious edge to his voice. “This wolf problem is getting out of hand.”

Bella got distracted — _stunned,_ really — by his news. There was no way the wolves would’ve...or Jacob at the very least. 

“Are you sure that’s what happened to them?” Bella asked.

“There were tracks again, and...some blood this time.”

“Oh.” 

“So just look out for yourself and keep your head on a swivel. You got your pepper spray, right?” 

Bella nodded, patting the side of her knapsack. 

“Alright then, head off to school before you’re too late.” Charlie knocked on the table, an informal adjourning. 

Bella shot out her chair, a bubble of energy, and gave her father a wave before bounding out to her truck.

 _Kids_ , Charlie shook his head and sipped his mug.

* * *

Isabella Swan, by nature, wasn’t a hateful girl. 

She disliked, of course — disliked rainy weather, mosquitos, supernatural boys with homicidal tendencies, cauliflower — but there just weren’t many things she _hated._

Except gym class.

 _Whoever invented gym should be burned at the fucking stake._ Bella huffed, throwing on her class uniform and knotting her in a quick ponytail. 

Bella walked to exit the empty locker room when the door swung open, almost knocking her in the head. She popped backward and met the eyes of Lauren, flanked by Jessica and Angela. 

Lauren gained a small glint in her verdant irises. She tilted her head, regarding Bella as if she was an ant under a magnifying glass. 

Heat started to build in Bella’s stomach. The raw emotion overpowering her usual depressed apathy that always made her wait for Lauren’s —

“Hey, slit wrists. Surprised to see you showing skin today.” 

— cheery, _absolutely_ friendly greetings. 

Since the Cullens had left, Lauren gained a love for rubbing it in Bella’s face. Yet, when an indifferent Bella only stared back with a bleak, empty gaze, Lauren got her rocks off by creating multiple rumors about her. _Especially_ , once she saw Bella’s bandaged bicep. 

Her favorite rumor? 

_The scar was actually from like cutting, not an animal like she lied to everyone about. Can you believe Bella literally tried to cry wolf?_ She heard Lauren whisper to Jessica during art class.

And it was true, partially; Bella _did_ wear long-sleeves because of the bite.

She disliked the cold. The icy winds dug into her scar with her cruel fingers that left her breathless. It was better to keep it covered to avoid the exposure;...and the memories. For when she felt that same breeze, she felt his cool, soft skin too. The silk over the glacier, still invading her dreams by any means.

However, schematics didn’t matter to a girl like Lauren. The thrill of hitting a sore spot did. 

So she saved her breath and met Lauren's gaze. But, Bella’s twitching fingers belied her faux-sereneness.

Lauren noticed them in an instant. There _had_ to be some study on the observational nature of teenage girls. They were like eagles pin-pointing rabbits through miles of tree canopies. It was both impressive and vaguely frightening.

“Oh, am I making you nervous Swan? Here,” Lauren dug into her backpack and pulled out a plastic pen, “I don’t have a knife but I hope this helps.” 

A hostile silence oozed around them. 

Bella stared at the pen before dragging her eyes onto the girl’s. 

Lauren’s tiny, nasty smirk faltered for a moment. 

Bella didn’t know what she planned to do but she took a step forward, tense —

Until Angela, of all people, smacked the pen out of Lauren’s hand. “What the _fuck_ , Lauren? Chill out.”

Her disappointed, scolding glare would’ve made a teacher proud. Lauren scoffed, whirling around to face her friends and bite back. The discomfort and second-hand embarrassment radiating from Angela _and_ Jessica made Lauren pause. Even mean girls (maybe, _especially_ mean girls) cared about the opinions of others.

“Whatever.” Lauren rolled her eyes and shoulder-checked past Bella into the locker room. 

Jessica gave Bella an uncomfortable smile before hurrying after her friend. Angela clasped a gentle hand on Bella’s shoulders. Bella could feel the soft warmth through her t-shirt; it calmed her down some.

Angela’s eyebrows scrunched in concern. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” Bella sighed, nodding. She clenched her fingers into fists then released. “She just gets on my nerves.”

“And water is wet.” Angela said, deadpan. They shared a chuckle. 

“Thank you for, uh,” Bella scuffed her sneakers, “your help. I appreciate it.”

Angela smiled. “It’s what friends do.”

A seed of guilt sprouted in Bella’s chest. It was easy to forget, amidst her supernatural drama, that she hadn’t spent much time with her friends since September. 

“Hey, I-I’m sorry for not being around much. Things have been really weird.” 

“Break ups suck.” Angela shrugged, rolling her eyes. “I was the same way when Eric dated Rebecca Stein in eighth grade. Just...don’t be a total stranger, okay? I miss you at our lunch table.” 

“I’ll work on it.” Bella said. The corners of her lips flicked into a small, tired grin. “I promise.”

“LADIES, YOU’VE GOT FIVE MINUTES BEFORE I START MARKING FOLKS AS ABSENT.” Coach Clapp’s voice bellowed through the door.

“I gotta get dressed, but I’ll see you out there?” Angela asked, adjusting her cat-eye frames.

“Definitely.” Bella gave her a warm nod and headed out the locker room.

She groaned at the sight of Mike, Eric and several other boys fighting over shiny red rubber balls. 

Dodgeball. _Fuck me,_ Bella sighed.

“Boys!” Coach Clapp yelled. “Stop messing around and put them on the line!”

Soon after, the class was all gathered together on the basketball court next to a neat, bright line of dodgeballs. Coach elected Tyler Crowley and Mike as captains and they started picking their teammates. 

Along with their other classmates, Mike picked Lauren, Jessica (who bounded to his side with an excited giggle) and a couple members of the football, hockey and track team. While Tyler grabbed several basketball players, cheerleaders, Angela, Eric and Bella.

Bella prided herself on avoiding Coach Clapp’s mandatory participation rule. She made sure she was far back, behind even the last line of Tyler’s coordinated defensive players. She banked on slinking off to the bathroom when the game reached a fever pitch.

Their gym teacher blew the whistle. A couple of the more brave players sprinted towards the middle, grabbing a ball and using it as a bludgeon to hack any remaining balls back towards their side. 

Tyler and Mike yelled commands to their teammates. Each side goaded the other with playful insults and dares to come closer and try to hit them. Coach Clapp cheered compliments for flexible dodges and dead-eye, ball-throwing accuracy. 

To Bella, it was familiar, annoying chaos. 

Then she started noticing a pattern.

For every few throws, there were one or two specifically aimed at her. Usually, there was an unspoken rule to avoid Bella as her clumsiness could be marked as a safety hazard — endangering her or any other students nearby. She scanned the room and landed on the amused face of Lauren, huddled next to a couple of hockey players. They all stared at her in impish delight. Bella watched, as Lauren said something to the players causing them to chuckle, nod and spread out along the court. Each armed with a shiny ball and bravado. 

Bella watched them with a sinking sense of dread. 

One weaved between the occupied players and threw a lob right at her head. It spiraled through the air with professional accuracy. Bella blinked, and then blinked again, watching as the ball was _still_ making its way towards her. 

_What the hell?_ Bella thought. She dropped into a crouch as the ball practically cruised over her head, crashing into the wall behind her. 

She startled when something firm rolled into her ankle. She glanced down, eyeing the round ball next to her, and looked for it’s owner. Eric gave her a thumbs up and a silly imitation of a wink. 

_You got this_ , he mouthed before running to cover Angela.

Bella took a deep breath, crouching lower as the second hockey goon’s ball flew past her ear.

She grabbed the ball and popped up. The third player, a dark-haired midfielder who was known for his aggressive body-tossing blocks on the ice, flashed her a cocky grin. The court was narrowing down until there were six or seven people on each side. 

_Lots of room for him to knock me out._ Bella held the ball in her two hands like a shield. 

Her classmates, even Coach Clapp, had begun to notice the hockey players’ focus on Bella. Cautiously, they watched as Bella, the midfielder and his sole teammate faced another. 

The midfielder bounced the ball, playing with the texture. His buddy blocked them from any outside shots from Tyler’s side.

Bella held her breath, clenching for the impact. The midfielder cocked back his arm, striations dancing in his stretched bicep. He rotated his hip forward and whipped a curveball at her center mass.

Bella squeaked, and lunged her ball to the side, still clenching. She felt a hard thud vibrate through her body followed by the distant bounce of the hockey player’s ball.

The room was silent. 

Everyone’s mouth held a slight gape. Bella, slow in disbelief, glanced down at her waist. Her own ball was still in her hands; pressed against her body and warding against any unwanted intruders.

She had blocked his ball.

The midfielder unfroze, swatting his teammate in the shoulder. The teammate shook his burly head and moved into action. He threw his own shot, a firm arrow barreling for Bella’s right shoulder.

She angled that shoulder a few degrees backward. The ball sailed past her with little fanfare.

Eric’s shock melted into amazement. “Holy _crap_.” 

“What the fuck?” Lauren’s caustic voice came from across the gym.

“What a _dodge_ , Miss Swan!” Coach Clapp hooted. “Keep it up, I like what I’m seeing!”

Bella balked at the cheer. _What if this was a fluke?_

 _How will you know until it’s done?_ A small voice rose within her. _Throw the ball._

So she did.

Bella bounded towards the game line; gaining speed, she weaved between the players and the balls whizzing through the air. The midfielder watched her with a seriousness that wasn’t there before. 

He angled a neck shot that Bella slid on her knees to avoid; using the forward momentum to carry her the remaining distance as she aimed, flexed and fired.

The ball whirled with the buoyancy of a frisbee; low to the floor. It flowed towards the midfielder, unsuspecting, until the ball smacked him in the achilles. How apt.

He grabbed his ankle, hopping with a hiss. Under those same hands, a deep bruise would bloom the next day leaving the boy to scratch his head before blaming it on too-tight ice skates.

But, right now, he stood stupefied with the fact that _Bella Swan_ of all people got him out.

Coach Clapp blew his whistle, “Jonathan, you’re out!”

Tyler clasped a firm hand onto Bella’s shoulder; pulling her back deeper into their side before any stray shots could tag her.

“Where did you get those moves, Swan?” His smile was a proud beacon that lit up his face. 

Bella blinked away her fog of disbelief and shrugged, shy. “I don’t know, I guess I just got lucky.”

“Nah, that aim was killer.” Tyler shook his head, ignoring her modesty. “Now, can you do it again so we can rub this win in Mike’s face?” 

It was weird getting positive attention from Tyler that wasn’t coated in horniness. It felt good.

Bella gave him a small grin. “I think I can handle that.”

“Good shi—” Bella tugged his arm to pull them down into a crouch. In his exuberance, Tyler missed Mike’s headshot at his turned back. Tyler watched her with her wide, impressed eyes. 

“Killer,” he whispered before bouncing up and aiming a barrage of throws at Mike. 

Bella snorted. She walked, backward, to her earlier spot. Shoulders back and strides sauntering. An electric buzz ran under her skin. She surveyed the court; looking to know how her teammates were doing. 

Mike and Tyler were holding a standoff in a corner; fingers twitching around their dodgeballs as if they were Smith & Wessons.

Angela caught a high lob (thrown by Jonathan’s burly teammate) aimed for Eric’s head. While Eric blocked Angela from a thigh shot thrown by a base on the cheerleading team. They shared soft, enamoured smiles with another.

Jessica sat next on the sidelines; out and chatting with her classes, occasionally pausing to cheer Mike on.

And Lauren? She eyed Bella right back; holding two balls and rigidity in her posture.

Bella tilted her head. _Someone wasn’t happy._ She waved.

Lauren narrowed her eyes and mouthed two words. Bella could feel the acid across the room. 

_Slit. Wrists._

Maybe that was the last straw to break Bella’s back. It could’ve started at the locker rooms. Or the hockey players. Or the months of rumors, passive-aggressive insults and cold shoulders.

 _Either way_ , Bella chuckled — a searing heat rising in her diaphragm, _I’m_ **_really_ ** _sick of her shit._

She picked up another spare ball near her side, matching Lauren’s number. She watched the girl cock her arm and throw, a parabolic arc that soared towards Bella.

Somehow, Bella knew she could catch it. Knew she _would._ But where was the fun in winning so simply?

Bella sidestepped the falling shot. She threw her own into the air and waited.

Lauren followed its path, as Bella figured she would. By the time, the girl realized that the ball was dropping toward the middle line, a decoy nowhere near Lauren’s position — Bella chucked her second pitch. 

The ball was a bullet out of her hand. Bella could’ve sworn part of the rubber coating scraped off. 

It blurred right into Lauren’s chest, knocking her right onto her ass several feet back from where she stood.

 _Preeeeet!_ Coach Clapp paused the game and ran over to Lauren’s side.

He sat her up; Lauren was conscious, but very dazed. 

For the second time in her life at Forks, Bella had the entire class staring at her — each with a different gaze. 

It startled her how assured she felt under their attention.

Yet, there was no denying the warm pride in her chest when Lauren looked her way. 

Those verdant eyes holding more fear, more _respect_ than ever before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 5! This chapter was the idea that inspired the rest of moonchild for me, along with Sleeping at Last's song Birthright. After here, we start moving more parallel alongside canon and re-introducing more characters as the story pushes along further. 
> 
> Enjoy and I'll see y'all in a couple of weeks!

**SURROUNDED BY FANGS**

The next day, on a brisk Saturday morning, Bella awoke on the back porch. 

After yesterday’s dodgeball aftermath (which Tyler, Eric and Mike praised as the battle of the _century)_ — in which Lauren had to be escorted by Coach Clapp to the nurse’s office to treat her bruised ass, Bella decided to skip the rest of school.

Angela had given her a warm good-bye, praising her newfound agility and wishing her a happy weekend.

Bella hopped in her truck. As she drove, she tossed her hand out the window to let the light drizzle dance on her fingertips. Every drip, felt more vibrant than the last.

When she got home, Bella was hit with a wave of exhaustion. She decided to pre-heat Charlie’s dinner only; her nose wrinkling at the smell of leftover vegetable lasagna. 

Tossing on some pajamas, she crawled into bed. Eyes fluttering shut under the weight of sleep.

That was the last thing she remembered.

 _So how did I end up outside?_ Bella rubbed away the grit in her eyes and grumbled at the amount of icy dew soaking her clothes. She shivered. The sun had barely climbed into the sky and here Bella was channeling her inner Bear Grylls.

At least, last night’s dream had been better, if not more confusing. Bella’s subconscious had spent most the night in a pitch-black cave; the familiar scent of icy sea brine and dried algae coating her nose until the call from a distant, feminine voice had her stepping into the cave’s entrance. She heard the voice beckoning again — a low, mellifluous sound curling around a repeated word (a name, Bella guessed) — and though the name wasn’t Bella’s, she felt the voice was looking for her. Yet, when Bella stepped further out the cave, the sun’s bright rays blinded her sight and she woke up.

Bella stretched, a yawn bursting loud from her chest. She padded inside to her bedroom, careful to avoid the loud creaks on the stairs that would wake Charlie. By his calm snoring, Bella figured she must’ve sleepwalked after Charlie had gone to bed. 

She walked to her bed, ready to sleep away the remaining pre-dawn, when the small dreamcatcher pinned above her headboard caught her eye.

She paused, watching it for a long, quiet moment. A choice weighed on her mental scale.

Bella sighed, grabbing some clothes and a pen to write Charlie a note.

* * *

 _If it was_ **_anyone_ ** _but Jacob_ , Bella thought, shaking her head as she drove down the forest-lined highway to La Push.

Bella still wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing, but she'd made a compromise with herself.

She couldn't condone what Jacob and his friends, his pack, were doing. Bella understood now what he'd said that night — that she might not want to see him again — and Bella could have called him back as he'd suggested, but that felt cowardly. She owed him a face-to-face conversation, at least. She would tell him to his face that she couldn't just overlook what was going on. Bella couldn't be friends with a killer and say nothing...That would make her a monster, too.

But she couldn't _not_ warn him, either. Bella had to do what she could to protect him.

She pulled up to the Blacks' house, tense.

The house was dark, no lights in the windows, but Bella didn't care if she woke them. Her fist thudded against the front door with electric energy; the sound reverberated through the walls.

"Come in," Bella heard Billy call after a minute, and a light flicked on.

She twisted the knob; it was unlocked. Billy was leaning around an open doorway just off the little kitchen, a bathrobe around his shoulders, not in his chair yet. When he saw who it was, his eyes widened briefly, and then his face turned stoic.

"Well, good morning, Bella. What are you doing up so early?"

"Hey, Billy. I need to talk to Jake — where is he?"

"Um... I don't really know," he lied, straight-faced.

"Do you know what Charlie is planning to do this morning?" Bella demanded, sick of the stalling. 

"Should I?"

"He and half the men in town are going out in the woods with guns; hunting giant wolves."

Billy's expression flickered, and then went blank.

"So I'd like to talk to Jake about that, if you don't mind," Bella continued.

Billy pursed his full lips for a long moment. "I'd bet he's still asleep," he finally said, nodding toward the tiny hallway off the front room. "He's out late a lot these days. Kid needs his rest — probably you shouldn't wake him."

She knew the feeling. "It's my turn," Bella muttered under her breath as she stalked to the hallway. Billy sighed.

Jacob's tiny closet of a room was the only door in the yard-long hallway. Bella didn't bother to knock. She threw the door open; it slammed against the wall with a bang.

Jacob — wearing just the same black cut-off sweats he'd worn that night—was stretched diagonally across the double bed that took up all of his room but a few inches around the edges. Even on a slant, it wasn't long enough; his feet hung off the one end and his head off the other. He was fast asleep, snoring lightly with his mouth hanging open. The sound of the door hadn't even made him twitch.

His face was peaceful with deep sleep, all the angry lines smoothed out. There were circles under his eyes that Bella hadn't noticed before. Despite his ridiculous size, he looked very young now, and very weary. Sympathy shook her.

Bella stepped back out, and shut the door quietly behind me.

Billy watched with curious, guarded eyes as she walked slowly back into the front room.

"I think I'll let him get some rest."

Billy nodded, and then we gazed at each other for a minute. Bella was dying to ask him about his part in this.

 _What did he think of what his son had become?_ But she knew how he'd supported Sam from the very beginning, and so she supposed the murders must not bother him. How he justified that to himself Bella couldn't imagine.

Bella could see many questions for me in his dark eyes, but he didn't voice them either.

"Look," she said, breaking the loud silence. "I'll be down at the beach for a while. When he wakes up, tell him I'm waiting for him, okay?"

"Sure, sure," Billy agreed.

Bella wondered if he really would. Well, if he didn't, she’d tried, right?

She drove down to First Beach and parked in the empty dirt lot. It was still dark — the gloomy entrance of a cloudy day— and when she cut the headlights it was hard to see. Bella had to let her eyes adjust before she could find the path that led through the tall hedge of weeds. It was colder here, with the wind whipping off the black water, and she shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her winter jacket. 

Bella paced down the beach toward the north seawall. She couldn't see St. James or the other islands, just the vague shape of the water's edge. She picked her way carefully across the rocks, watching out for driftwood that might trip her.

Bella found what she was looking for before she realized she was looking for it. It materialized out of the gloom when it was just a few feet away: a long bone-white driftwood tree stranded deep on the rocks. The roots twisted up at the seaward end, like a hundred brittle tentacles. Bella couldn't be sure that it was the same tree where she and Jacob had their first conversation — a conversation that had begun so many different, tangled threads of her life — but it seemed to be in about the same place Bella sat down where she'd sat before, and stared out across the invisible sea.

Seeing Jacob like that — innocent and vulnerable in sleep — had stolen all her reasons for distance, dissolved all her anger. She couldn't turn a blind eye to what was happening, like Billy seemed to, but she couldn't condemn Jacob for it either. 

_Love didn't work that way_ , she decided. 

Once you cared about a person, it was impossible to be logical about them anymore. Jacob was her friend whether he killed people or not. And Bella didn't know what she was going to do about that.

When she pictured him sleeping, Bella felt an overpowering urge to _protect_ him. Completely illogical.

Illogical or not, Bella brooded over the memory of his peaceful face, trying to come up with some answer, some way to shelter him, while the sky slowly turned gray.

"Hi, Bella."

Jacob's voice came from the darkness and made her jump. It was soft, almost shy, but she’d been expecting some forewarning from the noisy rocks, and so it still startled her. Bella could see his silhouette against the coming sunrise — it looked enormous.

"Jake?"

He stood, several paces away, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Billy told me you came by — I knew you could figure it out." 

"Yeah, I remember the right story now," she whispered.

It was quiet for a long moment and, though it was still too dark to see well, Bella’s skin prickled as if his eyes were searching her face. There must have been enough light for him to read her expression, because when he spoke again, his voice was suddenly acidic.

"You didn’t call me back," he said. 

Bella nodded. "I know."

Jacob started pacing along the rocks. If she listened very hard, Bella could barely hear the gentle brush of his feet on the rocks behind the sound of the waves. 

"Why did you come?" he demanded, not halting his energetic stride. “Charlie said you didn’t want to talk.”

"I didn’t for a while. But...I thought this would be better face-to-face."

He snorted. "Oh, much better."

"Jacob, I have to warn you —"

"About the rangers and the hunters? Don't worry about it. We already know."

"Don't worry about it?" Bella demanded in disbelief. "Jake, they've got guns! They're setting traps and offering rewards and —"

"We can take care of ourselves," he growled, still pacing. "They're not going to catch anything. They're only making it more difficult — they'll start disappearing soon enough, too."

"Jake!" she hissed.

"What? It's just a fact."

Bella’s voice was pale with revulsion. "How can you...feel that way? You know these people. Charlie's out there!" The thought made her stomach twist.

He came to an abrupt stop. "What more can we do?" he retorted.

The sun painted the clouds a silver-pink above them. 

Bella could see his expression now; it was angry, frustrated, betrayed.

"Could you...well, try to _not_ be a...werewolf?" Bella suggested in a whisper.

He threw his hands up in the air. "Like I have a choice about it!" he shouted. "And how would that help anything, if you're worried about people disappearing?" 

"I don't understand you."

He glared at Bella, his eyes narrowing and his mouth twisting into a snarl. "You know what makes me so fucking mad?"

She flinched away from his hostile expression. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, so she shook her head.

"You're such a hypocrite, Bella — there you sit, _terrified_ of me! How is that fair?" His hands shook with anger.

" _Hypocrite_? How does being afraid of a monster make me a hypocrite?"

"Ugh!" he groaned, pressing his trembling fists to his temples and squeezing his eyes shut. "Would you listen to yourself?"

"What?"

He took two steps toward Bella, leaning over her; glaring with fury. "Well, I'm so sorry that I can't be the _right_ kind of monster for you, Bella. I guess I'm just not as great as a bloodsucker, am I?"

She jumped to her feet and glared back. "No, you're not!" Bella shouted. "It's not what you _are_ , stupid, it's what you _do_!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He roared, his entire frame quivering with rage.

Bella was caught off guard when Edward's voice cautioned her. _Be very careful, Bella,_ his silk voice warned. _Don't push him too far. You need to calm him down._

Even the voice in her head was making no sense.

She listened to him, though. 

"Jacob," Bella pleaded, making her tone soft and calm. "Is it really necessary to _kill_ people? Isn't there some other way? I mean, if vampires can find a way to survive without murdering people, couldn't you give it a try, too?"

He straightened up with a jerk, like her words had sent an electric shock through him. His eyebrows shot up and his eyes stared wide.

"Killing people?" he demanded.

"What did you think we were talking about?"

He wasn't trembling anymore. He looked at Bella with hopeful disbelief _. "I_ thought we were talking about your disgust for werewolves."

"No, Jake, no. It's not that you're a...wolf. That's fine," She promised him, and Bella knew as she said the words that she meant them. Bella really didn't care if he turned into a big wolf — he was still Jacob. "If you could just find a way not to hurt people... that's all that upsets me. These are innocent people, Jake, people like Charlie, and I can't just look the other way while you —"

"Is that all? Really?" he interrupted me, a smile breaking across his face. "You're just scared because I'm a murderer? That's the only reason?"

 _This boy is nuts._ "Isn't that reason enough?"

He started to laugh. 

"Jacob Black, this is _so_ not funny!" Bella discreetly patted her jacket pockets. _Where is my pepper spray?_

He scooped her in another vice-tight bear hug. "Sure, sure," he agreed, still chortling.

"You really, honestly, don't mind that I morph into a giant dog?" he asked, his voice joyful in Bella’s ear.

"No," Bella gasped. "Can't — breathe — Jake!" 

He let her go, but took both her hands. "I'm not a killer, Bella."

Bella studied his face, and it was clear that this was the truth. Relief pulsed through her veins.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," he promised, solemn.

Bella threw her arms around him. It reminded her of that first day with the motorcycles. Like that other time, he stroked her hair.

"Sorry I called you a hypocrite," he apologized.

"Sorry I called you a murderer."

He laughed. She laughed. Their bond was something else.

Bella thought of something then, and pulled away from him so that she could see his face. Her eyebrows furrowed, anxious. "What about Sam? And the others?"

He shook his head, smiling like a huge burden had been removed from his shoulders. "Of course not. Don't you remember what we call ourselves?"

The memory was clear — she’d just been thinking of that very day. "Protectors?" 

"Exactly."

"But I don't understand. What's happening in the woods? The missing hikers, the blood?"

His face was drawn in an instant. "We're trying to do our job, Bella. We're trying to protect them, but we're always just a little too late."

"Protect them from what? Is there really a bear out there, too?"

"Bella, we only protect people from one thing — our _one_ enemy. It's the reason we exist. Because they do."

Bella stared at him, blank for a moment, before she understood. 

Then the blood drained from her face.

He nodded. "I thought you, of all people, would realize what was really going on." 

* * *

Bella wasn’t sure what the hell she was doing here. 

_Especially_ after Jacob’s warning to be safe after walking her back to her truck. Was Bella _trying_ to push herself back into the zombie stupor? Had she turned masochistic — developed a taste for torture? She should’ve stayed in La Push. She felt much, much healthier around Jacob.

 _This_ was not a healthy thing to do. 

But she continued to drive slowly down the overgrown lane, twisting through the trees that arched over her like a green, living tunnel. Bella’s hands were shaking, so she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. 

She knew part of the reason she did this was that dream with Jasper and Edward— now that she was really awake — the horror of that dream gnawed on her nerves; a dog worrying a bone. 

There _was_ something to search for. Unattainable and impossible, far off and distracted...but the feeling (maybe _him)_ was out there, somewhere. Bella had to believe that.

The other part was the strange buzz she’d felt at school yesterday. The way she had bent, twirled and sprinted across the court. The sensation that she was starting over…

Edward's words ran through Bella’s head, toneless; like she was reading rather than hearing them spoken aloud:

_It will be as if I’d never existed._

Bella was lying to herself, by splitting her reasoning into just two parts. She didn’t want to admit the strongest motivation. Because it was mentally unsound. 

The truth was that she wanted to hear his voice again, like she had earlier with Jacob. For that brief moment, when his voice came from some other part of Bella than her conscious memory, when his voice was perfect and honey-smooth rather than the pale echo her memories usually produced, Bella was able to remember without pain. It hadn't lasted; the pain had caught up with her, alone in her truck, as Bella was sure it would for this fool's errand. But those precious moments when she could hear him again were an irresistible lure. Bella had to find some way to repeat the experience again, if not one last time.

Bella hoped that déjà vu was the key. So she was going back to his meadow, a place she hadn't been since the summer before senior year, so many months ago. And failed to find that night of the attack.

A few minutes later Bella was on the familiar dirt road that led to nowhere in particular. She had the windows rolled down and she drove as fast as was healthy for her truck, trying to enjoy the cold wind against her face. It was still cloudy, but the rain held — a nice, late winter afternoon, for Forks.

Getting started took her longer than it would have taken Jacob. After she parked in the usual spot, Bella had to spend a good fifteen minutes studying the little needle on the compass face and the markings on the now worn map. When she was reasonably certain that she was following the right line of the web, she set off into the woods. 

That old sense of unease rose within her, ready for a sequel. Breathing started to get more difficult — not because of exertion, but because she was having trouble with that worn hole in her chest again. Bella kept her arms tight around her torso and tried to banish the ache from her thoughts. She almost turned around, but she hated to waste the effort she'd already expended.

The rhythm of her footsteps started to numb her mind and her pain as Bella trudged on. Her breathing evened out over time, and she was glad she hadn't quit. Bella was getting better at this bushwhacking thing; she could tell she was faster. 

Bella didn't realize quite how much more efficiently she was moving. Bella thought she'd covered maybe four miles, and she wasn't even starting to look around for it yet. And then, with an abruptness that disoriented her, Bella stepped through a low arch made by two vine maples — pushing past the chest-high ferns — into the meadow.

It was the same place, of that, Bella was sure. She'd never seen another clearing so symmetrical. It was as perfectly round as if someone had intentionally created the flawless circle, tearing out the trees but leaving no evidence of that violence in the waving grass. To the east, she could hear the stream bubbling.

The place wasn't nearly so stunning without the sunlight, but it was still very beautiful and serene. It was the wrong season for wildflowers; the ground was thick with tall grass that swayed in the chilly breeze like ripples across a lake.

It was the same place...but it didn't hold what Bella had been searching for.

The disappointment was as instant as the recognition. Bella sank down right where she was, kneeling there at the edge of the clearing, beginning to gasp. 

What was the point of going any farther? Nothing lingered here. Nothing more than the memories that Bella could have called back whenever she wanted to, if she was ever willing to endure the corresponding pain — the pain that had her now, had her cold. There was nothing special about this place without _him_. Bella wasn't exactly sure what she'd hoped to feel here, but the meadow was empty of atmosphere, empty of everything. 

Bella’s thoughts swirled, rendering her dizzy.

 _At least I'd come alone._ Bella felt a rush of thankfulness as she realized that. If she'd discovered the meadow with Jacob...well, there was no way she could have disguised the abyss she was plunging into now. How could she have explained the way she was fracturing into pieces, the way she had to curl into a ball to keep the empty hole from tearing her apart? It was so much better that she didn't have an audience.

And Bella wouldn't have to explain to anyone why she was in such a hurry to leave, either. Jacob would have assumed, after going to so much trouble to locate the stupid place, she would want to spend more than a few seconds here. But Bella was already trying to find the strength to get to her feet again, forcing herself out of the ball so that she could escape. There was too much pain in this empty place to bear — she would crawl away if she had to.

 _Alone_. Bella repeated the word with grim satisfaction as she wrenched herself to her feet.

At precisely that moment, a figure stepped out from the trees to the north, some thirty paces away.

An array of emotions shot through Bella in a second. The first was surprise; Bella was far from any trail here, and she didn't expect company. Then, as her eyes focused on the motionless figure, seeing the utter stillness, the pallid skin, a rush of piercing hope rocked through her. She suppressed it, fighting against the pendulum clash of agony as Bella’s eyes continued to the face beneath the black hair, the face that wasn't the one she wanted to see. Next was fear; this was not the face she grieved for, but it was close enough for Bella to know that the man facing her was no stray hiker.

And finally, in the end, recognition.

"Laurent!" Bella cried in surprised pleasure.

It was an irrational response. Bella probably should have stopped at fear.

Laurent had been one of James's coven when they'd first met. He hadn't been involved with the hunt that followed — the hunt where Bella was the quarry — but that was only because he was afraid; she was protected by a bigger coven than his own. It would have been different if that wasn't the case — he'd had no compunctions, at the time, against making a meal of her. Of course, he must have changed, because he'd gone to Alaska to live with the other civilized coven there, the other family that refused to drink human blood for ethical reasons. The other family like...but she couldn't let herself think of the name.

Yes, fear would have made more sense, but all Bella felt was an overwhelming satisfaction. The meadow was a magic place again. A darker magic than she'd expected, to be sure, but magic all the same. Here was the connection she'd sought. The proof, however remote, that — somewhere in the same world where she lived — _he_ did exist.

It was impossible how much Laurent looked the same. Bella supposed it was very silly and human to expect some kind of change in the last year. But there was something...she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Bella?" he asked, looking more astonished than she felt.

"You remember." she smiled. It was ridiculous that she should be so elated because a vampire knew her name.

He grinned. "I didn't expect to see you here." He strolled toward her, his expression bemused.

"Isn't it the other way around? I do live here. I thought you'd gone to Alaska."

He stopped about ten paces away, cocking his head to the side. His face was the most beautiful face Bella had seen in, what felt like, an eternity. She studied his features with a greedy sense of release. Here was someone else she didn't have to pretend for — someone who already knew everything she could never say.

"You're right," he agreed. "I did go to Alaska. Still, I didn't expect...When I found the Cullen place empty, I thought they'd moved on."

"Oh." She bit her lip as the name dug at the raw edges of her. It took Bella a second to compose herself. Laurent waited with curious eyes.

"They did move on," Bella managed to tell him.

"Hmm," he murmured. "I'm surprised they left you behind. Weren't you sort of a pet of theirs?" His eyes were innocent of any intended offense.

Bella smiled, dry. "Something like that." 

"Hmm," he said, thoughtful again.

Then, Bella realized why he looked the same — _too much_ the same. After Carlisle told them that Laurent had stayed with Tanya's family, she'd begun to picture him, on the rare occasions that she thought of him at all, with the same golden eyes that the...Cullens had. 

That all _good_ vampires had.

Bella took a subconscious step back, and his curious, crimson eyes followed the movement.

A hard-headed heat began boiling within her. Much more aggressive than the burn in gym class.

"Do they visit often?" he asked, still casual, but his weight shifted toward Bella.

 _Lie_ , Edward’s beautiful velvet voice whispered in her ear.

Bella started at the sound of _his_ voice, but it should not have surprised her. _Was I not in the worst danger imaginable?_ Jacob was safe as kittens next to this.

Bella did what the voice said to do.

"Now and again." Bella tried to make her voice light, relaxed. "The time seems longer to me, I imagine. You know how they get distracted..." She was beginning to babble. She had to work to shut herself up.

"Hmm," he said again. "The house smelled like it had been vacant for a while..."

 _You have to lie better than that, Bella,_ the voice urged.

She tried. "I'll have to mention to Carlisle that you stopped by. He'll be sorry they missed your visit." Bella pretended to deliberate for a moment. "But I probably shouldn't mention it to... Edward, I suppose—" She barely managed to say his name, and it twisted her expression on the way out, ruining her bluff "— he has such a temper... well, I'm sure you remember. He's still touchy about the whole James thing." Bella rolled her eyes and waved one hand, like it was all ancient history, but there was an edge of hysteria to her voice. She wondered if he would recognize what it was.

The dredges of remaining sunlight washed over the forest floor. Long shadows crept along their ankles.

"Is he really?" Laurent asked, skeptic with a pleased burr weaving through his words.

Bella kept her reply short, so that her voice wouldn't betray her panic. "Mm-hmm."

Laurent took a casual step to the side, gazing around at the little meadow. She didn't miss that the step brought him closer to her. In her head, Edward’s voice responded with a low snarl.

An persistent itch nestled deep into her vertebrae, making her shift her shoulders. 

"So how are things working out in Denali? Carlisle said you were staying with Tanya?" Bella’s voice was too high.

The question made him pause. "I like Tanya very much," he mused. "And her sister Irina even more... I've never stayed in one place for so long before, and I enjoy the advantages, the novelty of it. But, the restrictions are difficult... I'm surprised that any of them can keep it up for long." He smiled at a secret smile at her. "Sometimes I cheat."

Bella couldn't swallow. Her foot started to ease back, but she froze when his red eyes flickered down to catch the movement.

"Oh," she said in a faint voice. "Jasper has problems with that, too."

 _Don't move_ , the voice whispered. Bella tried to do what he instructed. It was hard; the instinct to do _something_ was nearly uncontrollable.

"Really?" Laurent seemed interested. "Is that why they left?" 

"No," she answered, honest. "Jasper is more careful at home." 

"Yes," Laurent agreed. "I am, too."

The next step he took was quite deliberate.

"Did Victoria ever find you?" Bella asked, breathless, desperate to distract him. It was the first question that popped into her head, and she regretted it as soon as the words were spoken. Victoria — who _had_ hunted her with James, and then disappeared — was not someone she wanted to think of at this particular moment.

But the question did stop him.

"Yes," he said, hesitating on that step. "I actually came here as a favor to her." He made a face. "She won't be happy about this."

"About what?" Bella said, eager, inviting him to continue. He was glaring into the trees, away from her. She took advantage of his diversion, taking a furtive step back.

He looked back at her and smiled — the expression made him look like Osiris, spectral and resplendent from the underworld. "About me killing you," he answered in a seductive purr.

Bella staggered back another step. The frantic growling in her head made it hard to hear.

"She wanted to save that part for herself," he went on, blithe. "She's sort of put out with you, Bella." 

"Me?" Bella squeaked, pointing at herself. "What did I do?"

"I know, it seems a little backward to me, too.” He shook his head and chuckled. “But, James was her mate and _your_ Edward killed him."

Even here, on the point of death, this mention of him still stung her heart.

Laurent was oblivious to her reaction. "She thought it more appropriate to kill you than Edward — fair turnabout, mate for mate. She asked me to get the lay of the land for her, so to speak. I didn't imagine you would be so easy to get to. So maybe her plan was flawed — apparently it wouldn't be the revenge she imagined, since you must not mean very much to him if he left you here unprotected."

Another blow, another tear through her chest. _Christ, was she paying him for disses too?_

Laurent's weight shifted again, and Bella stumbled another step back. 

He frowned. "I suppose she'll be angry, all the same."

"Then why not wait for her?" Bella choked out.

A mischievous grin rearranged his features. "Well, you've caught me at a bad time, Bella. I didn't come to _this_ place on Victoria's mission — I was hunting. I'm quite thirsty, and you do smell...simply mouthwatering."

Laurent looked at her with approval, as if he meant it as a compliment. 

_Threaten him_ , the delusion ordered, Edward’s voice distorted with dread. 

"He'll know it was you," she whispered. "You won't get away with this."

"And why not?" Laurent's smile widened. He gazed around the small opening in the trees. The night had begun to set in. The moon began to rise past the trees, covering them in a silver filter. "The scent will wash away with the next rain. No one will find your body — you'll simply go missing, like so many, many other humans. There's no reason for Edward to think of me, _if_ he cares enough to investigate. This is nothing personal, let me assure you, Bella. Just thirst."

 _Beg_ , her hallucination pleaded. 

"Please," she gasped.

"Look at it this way, Bella.” Laurent shook his head, his face kind. “You're very lucky I was the one to find you."

"Am I?" Bella faltered another step back. Laurent followed, lithe and graceful.

"Yes," he assured her. "I'll be very quick. You won't feel a thing, I promise. Oh, I'll lie to Victoria about that later, naturally, just to placate her. But if you knew what she had planned for you, Bella..." He shook his head with a slow movement, almost as if in disgust. "I swear you'd be thanking me for this."

The deep itch evolved; digging into her bloodstream and pushing out. It was like a hyperbolic time chamber had sped up a rash and compressed it into a fever. The back of her neck broke out in a cold sweat. Her bicep and ankle throbbed at an exact tempo. 

Laurent sniffed at the breeze that blew Bella’s scent in his direction.

"Mouthwatering," he repeated, inhaling deep. He blurred to her side, caressing her hair off her neck and exposing the skin to his vibrant gaze.

At that moment, Bella dove into a pool of vertigo. The world spun, and then spun again, sending her mind topsy-turvy.

She shivered, the cold snapping her back to attention. 

Twenty feet away, Laurent blinked at her in shock. 

Bella blanched. She wasn’t _unhappy_ with the space but...moments ago he had been right there — ready to eat. _So what happened?_

Laurent frowned in contemplation. He shook away his hesitation and charged.

It was the strangest thing Bella had ever seen. 

Laurent’s strides reminded her of the hockey players during gym class — faster than them, obviously, but the speed was visible, almost _too_ easy to watch.

Bella could see each, individual step he made. Something she’d _never_ been able to do before.

She flexed her fists, hissing against the deep sting in her palms. But there was no time to check. Laurent darted toward her, raising his arm to swipe at her shoulder. 

She rotated her deltoid backward but didn’t manage to block against his left jab, a firm hand that clasped her neck. It didn’t enter her mind that his grip would’ve juiced any other human’s throat.

Laurent rushed to dip his fangs into her neck. A set of needle-sharp incisors that made Bella yelp.

Yet...when Bella felt no fire, no burning venom that rocked her unconscious as James’ had…

When Laurent didn’t hear her heart slow or taste the searing, aphrodisiac rush of her blood…

They glanced at another. 

Bella, down into his sanguine irises, and Laurent, up into her glinting silver eyes that tracked him with a primal fervor. 

Bella gripped her hands into his hair and onto the wrist holding her neck. In his stupor, she tugged his hand off her — and bit it in a fit of animalistic imperative.

Laurent jolted, still close with Bella’s firm hold on his head. 

“ _Loup-garou_?” Laurent whispered. Terror crept into his crimson eyes; his assurance of power, built on centuries of an immortal home-court advantage, drifted away into the indigo sky. 

_A predator of his stature isn’t often prey_ **,** she supposed.

Bella blinked, slow, tonguing the sharp canines that jutted out of her maw. She tightened her grip on his locs and eyed the fresh teeth marks on his hand. Then, she noticed the hardened two-inch claws that jutted out of her nails beds. Stared at the thick chestnut hair coating her forearms. Yet, when her mind balked in shock, a sudden desire washed away all doubts like an endless tide. 

In her heart, nothing was relevant except two things:

She would devour him; and she would enjoy _every_ moment.

* * *

There was no more time. 

There was no more heartbreak or worn edges. 

There were no more clothes, or mean girls, or worries of college applications.

There was only the caress of the March zephyr. The flesh snatched between fang-filled bites. And the full moon, angling a luminescent light on its ward.

A distant rustle startled Bella out of her meal. She glanced towards the trees, hackles raised. In her hunger, she never even noticed the several heartbeats closing in on her. Their musky, spicy presence raised an alarm within her nervous system, sending uncomfortable heat down her spine. She growled, a guttural warning, deep from her diaphragm.

A rusty-brown wolf edged into the clearing, slow and cautious. His brown eyes hit a tiny part of her mind that remembered who owned those kind eyes. But, the alarm won out especially when an ink-black wolf followed after the first. _His_ aura radiated a proud energy that demanded subservience, expected obedience. The large wolf scented out his pheromones to Bella, watching for compliance.

The remaining wolves inched closer, ignoring the scolding yelps of the rusty-brown wolf.

An intrinsic sense of preservation drove her next move; reminiscent of her predecessor on that fateful night.

Bella dug her claws in the ground and bounded into the woods; ignoring the distant howls behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> excerpt of my very, very professional doc comments:
> 
> 'turning into a werewolf is a bit like zoning out while getting faded. One minute you've gotten your first taste of a blunt (the moon) and then, blink: high and hungry as a motherfucker.'
> 
> I run a very tight creative ship y’all


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, I hope you've been enjoying the warmer weather recently and staying happy & healthy! So, this chapter was again split into two parts because midterms are coming up and I wanted to make sure I posted on time. I plan on posting "part two" this week, so keep your eye out for that. Thank you so much for all the love, kudos and comments!! I'm hype y'all enjoyed the last two chapters and are on the ride with me to see how Bella's gonna handle all these changes. 
> 
> This chapter's title was inspired by the song Beneath the Tree by Sampha and so, if you're like me and enjoy listening to music while reading to set the mood - I recommend playing this song and vibing along. 
> 
> Have a dope weekend and I'll see y'all next week!

**BENEATH THE TREES**

Deep in the thicket — where the Bogachiel River’s descendants burbled through in dawdling streams — laid a slumbering woman. 

The sun’s beams provided her a blanket against the late winter winds. Moss cushioned her bare skin from the forest floor. And the chittering of red squirrels weaved a calm lullaby as she drooled onto the detritus.

A small pop from the splashing of a winter hatchery steelhead made her grumble awake.

Bella Swan stretched her head and eyed her surroundings with the bleariness of a newborn.

A gust caffeinated her senses, nudging her mind to the fact that she wasn’t _anywhere_ near her bed.

 _What the —?_ Bella pressed up into a sitting position. Half-sure she was in a vivid dream, she yawned and scratched her chest.

Bella’s fingers stopped at the feel of soft, sticky skin. 

She glanced down and screamed. Blood coated her body in wide, sweeping strokes. 

Frantically, she searched her body for gaping, horrific wounds. There was nothing.

Bella frowned and realized that the coloring was too dark to be fresh. And besides the pregnant feeling of a good dinner and full-body ache that throbbed from cuticle to cuticle _—_ Bella didn’t feel like she’d been stabbed with the vengeance of a thousand knives.

She racked her mind for a clue of how she got there. Again _—_ nothing. 

Just the protective smile of Jacob waving her off his property and…

Her heartbeat ramped up. _Laurent._

There was no way Bella would’ve escaped. Not with his hunger, nor his promise to Victoria.

So he must’ve put her here as some elaborate macabre of a hunt; slathered her in seasoning before the slaughter.

The rustle of the underbrush made her whip around. She searched for a branch, thorns, anything to buffer against his entrance. 

_Fuck._ Nothing.

Bella would die as naked as the day she was born. What a terribly, ironic tragedy. 

Heavy feet padded near _—_ slow but sure. It seemed Laurent liked playing with his food.

 _Quick and painless, my ass._ She gritted her teeth. 

The brush was spread apart. Bella startled at the sight of a massive wolf.

It paused its steps. They watched another in silence. The sunshine transformed the creature’s copper fur into a blazing henna. The wolf haunched down into its forelegs as if to make itself less intimidating. 

It should have been her moment to run. Bella should’ve backed away or pleaded for her life.

Yet, even at her deepest vulnerability, she felt an awareness in the wolf’s dark eyes.

One that comforted her; that _reminded_ her. 

She sucked in a deep breath and pushed against common, normal sense. “...Jacob?”

The wolf yipped and burst forward. He lathered Bella in wet kisses that soaked her hair. She giggled against reason and threaded her fingers in the wispy tufts behind his ears to tickle him. 

There was an innocence in their tussling. A playful dance that translated across language barriers and species differences. Bella smiled, child-like wonder in her gaze, as Jacob gave her one gentle nip on her shoulder before moving out of her embrace.

She gaped as he began to huff and vibrate with an ( _inhuman_?) intensity. She scooted backwards and stared as the hair seemed to melt off his body. 

Paws, tail and fur hue receded until a boy appeared in the wolf’s place. 

Crouched on the balls of his feet, Jacob observed her with quiet, gentle eyes. 

There was a new understanding in their gazes. A solemn connection that binded them in their humanness and needed no translation. Jacob reached for her closest limb, her ankle, and gripped it with a calloused palm that soothed her unknown fears and grounded her.

Sunshine warmed their bare skin. The moss softened their seating. And the gurgle of the nearby stream played a soothing symphony under their hidden bubble.

Long moments had passed before they moved again. 

Jacob reached behind him for a bundle of clothes wrapped together with thick twine. _He must’ve tied them around his...hindleg,_ Bella realized.

He tossed her a pair of sweatpants and a worn sweater with a symbol she recognized as his older sister Rachel’s alma mater. He dressed in his usual shorts and tee while she tugged on her own items.

“How are you feeling?” The warm grit in Jacob’s voice startled her. It had been so silent that the changes were overwhelming in her sensitive ears.

“Weird.” She croaked. Then cupped her throat, eyes wide. 

Jacob flashed a small, knowing smile. “Don’t freak. That tends to happen after a night like yours. Sam has a theory that too much howling dries the throat.”

 _Howling_? “What do you mean ‘ _night like mine_?’” Bella’s brows crinkled.

Jacob frowned. “You know...” He waved his hands in consternation. When Bella stared at him blankly, he pantomimed taking a large bite. “Last night. Don’t you remember?”

Bella shook her head. “I only remember saying good-bye to you and then...”

“Laurent,” she whispered. “He’s still here.”

Jacob blinked twice, and cocked his head to one side. “Who’s Laurent?”

Bella tried to organize the chaos in her head so she could answer. “You know _—_ you saw him in the meadow. You were there…” The words came out in a wondering tone as her mind tried to piece it together. “You were there and you...must’ve kept him from killing me…”

“Oh, the bloodsucker?” Jacob bared his teeth in a vicious grin. “Was that his name?”

Bella shuddered. “What were you thinking?” she whispered. “He could’ve killed you! Jake, you don’t realize how dangerous —”

His boisterous laugh interrupted her. “Bella, one single vampire isn’t much of a problem for a pack as big as ours. It would be so easy, there would hardly be any fun!” 

“What would be so easy?” 

“Killing the leech who was going to kill you. And it doesn’t count towards your murder theory — vampires aren’t people.” Jacob added. Then, he eyed her; that knowing gaze casting a spotlight on Bella’s face. “Besides, _we_ didn’t have to do it.”

“Then who did?” 

His expression changed. “You.”

Bella’s world froze; then spun in double-time.

“I...killed...Laurent?” She could only mouth the words.

Jacob slapped a hand against his forehead. “Wow. You _really_ don’t remember last night, do you?”

“Laurent is dead?” Bella whispered. “Because of _me_?”

He nodded, mouth twisted into a faint grimace. “You’re not upset about that, are you?” 

The truth became abundantly clear to Bella. Jacob was yanking her tail (so to speak). She guffawed until he began to look worried. “Of course, I’m not upset.”

“Well that’s...good, I think.”

“Because you _must_ be fucking with me!”

“Bella…” Jacob raised his hands.

“ _No_ , Jacob.” She shook her head, still grinning. You know...it’s one thing for you to be some super-creature but _me_? Human extraordinaire killing a _vampire_?” She scoffed, “There’s only so much bullshit I can take before it sounds unbelievable.” Bella turned away from him, stomping and grumbling under her breath.

Jacob inched closer. He raised his hand to grab her shoulder, but refrained. “Bella,” He sighed, “Do you remember that night in the forest? The one before you ended up in the hospital?”

Bella paused. Still facing the trees, she gave a faint nod.

“When I found you...when _we_ found you, you were bleeding out — from that bite on your bicep. By the time, I got you to the hospital Sam let me know that they killed that wolf...and you know what the weirdest thing was?” Jacob swallowed. “When the sun rose, he said that the wolf turned into a boy...way younger than me.”

Bella turned to him. There was a spectral terror in her eyes. “ _What_?”

“W-We didn’t know how to tell you,” Jacob stumbled over his words, “and...Sam decided that we should wait it out — see what happens before we made any decisions.”

“Wait.” Bella grimaced, tilting her head to hear him clearly. “You mean to tell me that you knew I had been bitten by a _werewolf_ for a month and you didn’t say _anything_? Jacob, what if I had done something to Charlie?”

“That’s how it went for all of us.” Jacob held his palms up, placating. “You _know_ how I thought Embry was in a gang with Sam and it turns out it was the pack.” He sighed, “We didn’t know when you would change so we waited for you to shift constantly. And we didn't know how it was going to work because your wolf isn’t anything like ours. Our wolves are genetic, passed down by our ancestors but...Sam, my dad, the tribe — we’ve never seen a creature like that kid. When the pack was chasing him, Sam tried to communicate with him but it was like there was a brick wall between him and us. He had no awareness — it was all animal energy, no humanity.”

Bella stared at him, stunned silent.

“I mean, Bella...you’re _covered_ in blood.” Jacob gestured to her body. “That bloodsucker is nowhere to be found and you don’t remember _anything_ about last night...which was a full moon.” He continued on in a soft whisper. “Can you honestly tell me after all the weird shit you’ve been through, that I’ve told you and that you’ve seen...is it really the _craziest_ thing in the world for you to be something weird too?”

“No, no, no…” Bella muttered. Cognitive dissonance shredded through her the fragile threads of her mind. She leaned forward and vomited, sour acid coating the insides of her throat. Gasping, she cupped her head in her hands. Nausea punched her stomach when she noticed the bloody, masticated pile of...flesh? _There was no way…_

Reality began bending in distorted shapes when Jacob decided to do something impulsive. 

He dove at her.

Instinctively, Bella ducked under his arms — tucking free away from his agile grasp.

Jacob lunged again, angling for her legs. He managed to grip her ankles and yank her to the floor.

Scorching heat rose in Bella’s diaphragm — here she was going through a mental crisis and Jacob wanted to _wrestle._

When Jacob leaned over her and pulled back his fist to jab, Bella wrapped her ankles around his lower back. She yanked him into the cradle of her hips and smacked her palm against his clenched hand, using the momentum to roll them over and disable Jacob’s arm against the forest floor. She gripped his neck with an iron grasp and bared her teeth in his face, a low rumble emitting from her chest. 

Jacob — with impressed, vaguely nervous eyes — tilted his neck to her gaze. A calm weight settled in her chest. Cognizance oozed in her mind. She gasped, letting go of his neck with a jolt backwards.

Bella’s hand shook. _Jacob was a 6’7” wolf with muscle to spare and I flipped him like it was_ **_nothing_** _._

Silence reigned for a moment. 

Jacob pointed at her neck — a bitter, protective frown on his face. “If a vampire bite didn’t turn you into a vampire, then something else had to turn you first; something stronger.”

Bella rubbed her fingers over the rough, indented scar. 

It pulsated over her carotid artery. She felt her heart pound back, pissed, in return. 

“Werewolf.” She whispered, staring at him. “ _Fuck_.”

Jacob gave her a tiny, commiserating smile. “I know, right?”

“...What do I do now?” 

“Well.” Jacob jumped up and held out his hand. “First things first — we need to get you cleaned up and stop by to visit Sam and the pack. They really wanna talk to you.” 

She looked into his warmhearted, hopeful gaze. For the second time in their friendship, Jacob was telling her to jump with both feet into the unknown. A stark contrast from _him_.

 _What other choice do I have?_ She reached out and let him tug her up — the warmth of his lighthouse grip anchoring her down the foggy, mythical path she would now step on.

Bella sighed. _Fuck me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol imagine a fantasy sitcom where every full moon, a young adult turns into a werewolf and their friends have to explain all the crazy shit they did while they were 'black out drunk.': 
> 
> "What the fuck happened last night?"
> 
> "Dude, you literally ate Ms. Gregor's cat."
> 
> Stay Blessed,  
> Elysium


End file.
